


Dreamweaver

by dragonbornette



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blind!Ignis, Dreaming, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy AU, First Time, M/M, Promnis - Freeform, Singing, gladnoct - Freeform, handjobs, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-06-25 16:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19749559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonbornette/pseuds/dragonbornette
Summary: The lift doors opened with a soft chime and they stepped inside together. “Prompto,” Ignis said softly, once the doors had closed. “Have you ever heard of the Dreamweavers?”Prompto’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Ignis. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, surprised by the way Ignis smiled.“They were a rare, magically-gifted people with the power to control the thoughts and dreams of others with their voices,” the Adviser related as they rode down in the lift. “They could sing a song and create beautiful images and fantasies for others to see. And sometimes, they could even control their own dreams or thoughts.”Curiosity piqued, Prompto turned more towards Ignis. “Why were they called Dreamweavers?”“Because when they sang, their voices seemed to weave the dream together as if they were sewing,” the taller man answered, head inclining towards Prompto with that soft smile still on his face. “Do you understand?”





	1. Chapter 1

Only a cool breeze disturbed the still silence of the night, flowing in every direction as it soothed and comforted. It blew gently under the moonless sky and through an open window, slipping through the sheer white curtains that billowed like lost ghosts beneath its touch.

Two violet-blue eyes watched and studied from a place beside the door on the opposite side of the dark room. The eyes blinked, but never moved, never strayed from where they rested, dutiful in their watch.

The pair belonged to a young man, twenty years old, blond and slim. His pale skin and freckled face gave him a youthful, optimistic appearance, but he took his duties very seriously.

One may wonder why he stood by a door in the middle of the night, eyes fixed on billowing curtains while his peripheral vision kept watch around him. It was because of the man asleep in the bed only a few feet away to his left.

 _He_ was the reason the young man stood there every night, watching and waiting.

He never thought his ability to stay up all night would ever come in handy, but sure enough, it did. It didn’t help though, that the young man absolutely _hated_ sleep. Sleeping meant dreaming, and he never wanted to dream. He never wanted to get his hopes up that there was a life beyond this. He never wanted to hope.

Not to say that his life here was miserable, but…to dream of something more felt like a waste.

Slowly, those violet-blue eyes drifted from the curtains to the sleeping man in the bed, studying him and the way his chest moved slowly with deep sleeping breaths. His name was Ignis, the most sought after Adviser in the entire land of Insomnia. People would travel hundreds of miles, even from as far away as Niflheim, to come see him just for the chance to ask him a question.

It amazed the young man to see the influence Ignis had, but he was only Ignis’s servant, his right hand. Most people didn’t know until they might Ignis – he was blind.

And that was the young man’s purpose. He was Ignis’s Eyes. He saw everything or Ignis, told him everything he needed to know, what he wanted to know. And that was it. They weren’t friends, confidantes – just servant and Master.

He was also afraid, afraid of what might happen if he said or did something Ignis didn’t like. He didn’t want to be punished or dismissed – he liked Ignis and he didn’t want to take his chances. Ignis was kind at heart, and wise, and the young man admired that in him.

Not to mention, Ignis was downright gorgeous.

When Ignis began stirring in his bed, the young man’s thoughts shattered back to attention and violet-blue eyes snapped back to the window as if he feared being caught staring. Even if Ignis couldn’t see, the young man suspected Ignis would somehow _know_.

“Prompto,” the soft accented voice called out to him like the soft touch of a lover.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Bring me my things, please,” came the simple request.

Prompto’s response was immediate. He moved from his place beside the door to take up Ignis’s cane and glasses, placing them in the Adviser’s open hand before stepping back. He watched as Ignis put on the glasses, covering his emerald green eyes, and rose to his feet by using the cane. He ran a hand through his sandy-hair, before turning to his left and crossing the room to the window.

Prompto always wondered why he used the cane, even if his own rom, but never asked. Maybe Ignis would tell him someday. He only watched as Ignis reached the window, found the sill, and sat down upon it with a soft sigh.

“What is the night like tonight, Prompto?” he asked, tilting his head back as the breeze watched over him and ruffled his hair.

Prompto stared for a moment before collecting himself. “No moon tonight, my Lord,” he answered as shortly as he could, “but cloudless. You can see all the stars.”

Ignis nodded, face expressionless. “Would you like to know what awakened me?”

“Of course, my Lord.” Prompto wasn’t going to say no.

“I had a dream,” the Adviser whispered.

Prompto stiffened, but kept it out of his voice. “About what, my Lord?”

To his surprise, Ignis shrugged. “Many things, Prompto,” he said, pausing before inclining his head towards the young servant behind him. “Do you dream?”

“No, my Lord, I do not,” Prompto replied, unable to keep the tension out of his tone.

Ignis hid a smile as he turned his head away from the window more towards Prompto. “Why does that bother you, Prompto?”

“What, my Lord?” Prompto questioned in reply. “Dreaming? I don’t dream, sire, or sleep. I don’t enjoy either. I don’t like imagining or seeing things that can’t and won’t ever happen to me. It makes me angry knowing things won’t ever change—” He practically choked on his breath when he realized he’d rambled in front of Ignis and fought the urge to clamp a hand over his mouth in shame.

“Do you not like working for me?” Ignis asked before Prompto could apologize, and the question made the young servant start in fright.

“No!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Ignis let out a soft laugh, confusing Prompto. “Please don’t fret, darling,” he said, further perplexing Prompto. Ignis wasn’t a stranger to such terms of affection, but he had _never_ directed one at Prompto before.

“Dreaming can be the only thing that saves you from a life like this,” the Adviser continued in a distant tone a moment later. “If you decide to dream, do let me know.”

Prompto could only stare in stunned disbelief as Ignis rose from the windowsill to return to bed. He took off his glasses and handed both them and his cane back to Prompto as if he knew where the young servant was standing. He tried to shake off his shock as he put the items back in their resting places, but noticed Ignis hadn’t lain down.

“Do you need something, my Lord?” he asked, facing Ignis and biting back a shout when the Adviser grabbed his hands with startling accuracy.

How had he known where Prompto’s hands were?

“Do you love me, Prompto?” he asked, those sightless green eyes fixed on Prompto, who panicked in response. How on Eos was he supposed to answer that?

“W-what do you mean?”

“It is a simple question that requires but a simple answer,” Ignis answered rather calmly, like nothing was out of the ordinary. “Do you love me?”

Prompto thought about their years together, about what it meant to be apart from Ignis, about his loyalty and knew his answer. But somehow, he couldn’t help wondering if Ignis meant something more by this question? Did he want to know how Prompto truly felt? Was this a test?

“O-of course, my Lord,” Prompto managed to get out, blinking when Ignis simply nodded and released his hands without another word.

The young servant stood trembling as he watched the blind Adviser lie back down before he finally returned to his place by the door and tried to go back to his dutiful watch over the Adviser of Insomnia.

* * *

When morning came, Ignis’s felt his eyes open, but he saw nothing except the presence of light. Even that was a small comfort in the grand scheme of the beautiful world beyond his sightless eyes. Despite growing up in a time of war, he missed the vibrant colors that came with sunsets and gardens and trips to lands beyond.

But he missed smiles – the joy he could see in the eyes and faces of those he helped.

But Ignis did not let his blindness keep him from what he loved doing. From childhood, he’d learned to play the piano and was a master of the keys, he still was. He’d sewn his own clothes, and with Prompto’s help – picking colors of course – Ignis still made his own clothes. His favorite suit was a dark blue and gold suit, muted colors, but fitted and slimming nonetheless. He’d always been a man of fashion.

Perhaps it was his one flaw.

In his spare time, he would play the piano. Sometimes, he’d play for Prompto – but he only had one rule, no singing.

“Prompto,” Ignis called softly, breaking himself of his thought train.

“Yes, my Lord?” came the knee-jerk response from off to his side.

“My things, please.” He listened to the sound of Prompto’s soft footsteps approaching, putting out his hand expectantly. Once he had his glasses, Ignis put them on and stood with the cane. “Which suit shall I wear today?”

He wanted to smile at the hesitation he could practically _feel_ coming from Prompto, but kept his face blank. Prompto was very sweet, but easy to tease at times.

“I, uh, I like your favorite,” came the reluctant response, “my Lord.”

“Mm,” Ignis mused thoughtfully. “Which is yours?”

“My favorite?” Prompto asked and Ignis nodded. “The same.”

“Truly?” Ignis retorted with an air of skepticism.

“Yeah!” Prompto defended before he seemed to remember himself and cleared his throat. “Yes, my Lord.”

Ignis smiled, tilting his head in a nod to his young servant. “My favorite it is,” he said, resting his cane against his bed as he undressed. He listened to the sound of Prompto crossing to the closet, the sound of hangers moving and fabric rustling, and then Prompto was hurrying back to him. He dressed with little help from the younger man, relishing in the touch of the soft silks and other fabrics he’d used to make this particular suit.

As he lowered himself on to the bed, Ignis started to pull on a pair of gloves as Prompto helped him with his shoes before he stopped and took the glove back off his hand. Prompto clearly hadn’t noticed or he would have said something, and Ignis used the opening to reach out his hand. His approximation of where Prompto’s head was, was spot on, and his fingers slid through the younger man’s hair rather easily.

Unfortunately, it startled Prompto, but only enough to make him drop Ignis’s other shoe. “M-my Lord?” came the confused inquiry.

“Why do I wear gloves?” Ignis was whispering, almost to himself. “My sight was taken from me, why did I take touch away from myself?”

Prompto’s heart was pounding in his ears, unsure of whether or not it was appropriate to indulge in the fingers in his hair, or if it was inappropriate to pull away. He hated to admit how _good_ it felt, how soft and gentle the touch was – how much he’d longed for this from the other man, which only begged the question of why this was even happening? 

As if thinking something similar, Ignis pulled his hand away in sudden realization and said nothing more until Prompto finished with his shoes and helped him to his feet.

“To breakfast, Prompto.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Ignis listened to the sound of Prompto’s steps heading away and to the door, following behind. He knew his room like the back of his hand, and most of the regular routes he took in the Citadel, but he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to completely memorize it. Not to sell himself short, but there was really no need. Prompto was on hand for several reasons, and one was to keep him from accidentally getting lost.

It could happen.

Once he heard the sound of his bedroom door shut behind them, Ignis walked with Prompto down the halls, a soft smile on his face. “So,” he said after a few moments of silence, as if he hadn’t just carded his fingers through Prompto’s hair or asked that bizarre question the night before, “did you dream?”

Again, he could practically feel the look Prompto was giving him. “Of course not,” Prompto snapped a little too harshly, “um, my Lord.” He cleared his throat again. “Like I’d admit to sleeping on the job anyway.”

Ignis couldn’t help his smile as they turned a corner and approached the lift. “Why do you believe nothing good can come from dreaming, Prompto?” he asked, hearing the sound of Prompto’s finger pushing the button. “I can fully assure you, dreams do come true. You have been with me long enough to see the results of my work, have you not?”

It surprised him to hear Prompto snort softly. “That’s not the same,” came the defeated answer. “If someone could prove, really prove to me that dreams came true, I’d sleep for as long as humanly possible to dream something up. But until that day comes, I won’t believe it for a second.” A pause. “…My Lord.”

The lift doors opened with a soft chime and they stepped inside together. “Prompto,” Ignis said softly, once the doors had closed. “Have you ever heard of the Dreamweavers?”

Prompto’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Ignis. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, surprised by the way Ignis smiled.

“They were a rare, magically-gifted people with the power to control the thoughts and dreams of others with their voices,” the Adviser related as they rode down in the lift. “They could sing a song and create beautiful images and fantasies for others to see. And sometimes, they could even control their own dreams or thoughts.”

Curiosity piqued, Prompto turned more towards Ignis. “Why were they called Dreamweavers?”

“Because when they sang, their voices seemed to weave the dream together as if they were sewing,” the taller man answered, head inclining towards Prompto with that soft smile still on his face. “Do you understand?”

Prompto nodded before he could help himself and then realized what he was doing. “Yeah, I think so,” he replied, tilting his head at a thought. “So what happened to them?”

“Niflheim,” Ignis replied as the lift came to a stop and the doors opened, but neither man moved. “They feared the power of the Dreamweavers and saw them as a threat. They claimed the Dreamweavers were trying to control them in order to gain power, so they killed as many Dreamweavers as they could. The rest fled and were never to be heard from again.”

Prompto gaped up at Ignis like a fish. “That…that’s so sad.”

Ignis nodded before the doors to the lift closed and Prompto had to slap a hand on the button to open them back up. “Do not let my tale trouble you, darling,” he said, brushing over the word like it was nothing, but to Prompto it was everything. “Their legacy still lives. Niflheim did not win that war.”

Something about those words stirred something in Prompto and he found himself smiling as they reached the Dining Hall. He didn’t see the king inside, but before he could report as such, Ignis had turned to him and was speaking again.

“Would you like to dine with me?”

Blinking rapidly in surprise, Prompto barely managed to respond. “Uh, I’m not allowed to, sire,” he answered, eyes widening when Ignis snorted.

“Do I seem concerned over something so trifling?” the Adviser asked. “My invitation remains the same and I would appreciate some consideration before you answer.”

Prompto’s jaw dropped, but he was trying not to laugh. He’d never seen Ignis like this before, but he was too amused to be concerned over the Adviser’s odd behavior. “Well, then, yeah. Sure!”

They entered the Dining Hall together and took their seats as servants from the kitchen brought out food. They gave Prompto weird looks, but said nothing – it wasn’t their place. Once Prompto got past the strange feeling of sitting and eating with Ignis, he found he couldn’t stop thinking about the story Ignis told him on the lift, about the Dreamweavers.

In addition to everything else the man had been doing out of character, Prompto couldn’t help wondering why the Adviser had brought up a story like that? Prompto had never even heard of the Dreamweavers before and hated that he was intrigued by the thought of what their powers and songs were like.

“You are being rather quiet, Prompto,” Ignis noted, startling the younger man at his side. “Is it because I have been speaking more often to you than usual?”

“I was thinking, actually,” Prompto explained, almost defensively. He was always quiet around Ignis, so he had to wonder why the other man would ask him that.

“Really?” Ignis sipped his coffee and the look on his face told Prompto they’d managed to finally get Ebony. “What about?”

Prompto sighed and looked away, petulant. “The Dreamweavers,” he muttered, feeling embarrassed.

Ignis hid his smirk behind another sip of coffee. “What about them?”

Shrugging, Prompto turned back towards Ignis. “I guess what their songs were like,” he tried to explain. “You know, how it looked when they weaved the dreams…”

Ignis said nothing more on the matter, just nodded and went back to his meal and Prompto felt relieved for some reason. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking to Ignis, but it was strange and it was getting his hopes up. If he refused to sleep or dream in order to keep his hopes from rising, he didn’t want Ignis backing him into a corner by doing the same thing in the waking world.

But he liked it. He liked the attention, he liked Ignis’s dependence on him. He liked his place at the other man’s side.

They finished their meal in silence and Prompto escorted the Adviser back up the lift and to his room. When they arrived, Prompto opened the door but was surprised when Ignis stopped him from following. “Go and get cleaned up for the day, Prompto,” came the soft instruction. “I will wait for you here.”

“Oh,” Prompto said before nodding. “Alright.” He reached for the door and shut himself on the other side, worried for a moment he’d done something before it occurred to him he’d forgotten to address Ignis by his proper title like, a _bajillion_ times throughout their conversations this morning.

But surely Ignis wasn’t mad about that, right?

Prompto wasn’t sure. Ignis had been acting so strangely since the night before, he wasn’t sure what to think. He rushed off down the hall to his quarters to get cleaned up, wondering what else today had in store for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompto has a friend in the palace.  
> ignis runs into some trouble.  
> and prompto has a dream.

After a bath and a power nap, Prompto changed into a new set of clothes and checked himself in the mirror. One of the many perks of being Ignis’s personal servant was that he didn’t have to wear anything traditional or uniform-like. He felt less like a servant and more like an assistant, and that made things more bearable at times.

And he took full advantage of those perks. If he could feel more like a person and less like a servant, he would.

With one last tweak of his hair, Prompto left his small quarters and hurried down the hall back to Ignis’s room. He was rounding the corner when he spotted a familiar face and came to a screeching halt in order to bow, but Noctis made a face and waved at Prompto to quit.

“Hey, we talked about this,” he said as he approached. “You don’t have to do that.”

Prompto lifted his head from where he remained bowing. “Uh, yeah I do?” he replied before lowering his head. “Your Highness.”

“ _Prom_ ,” the Crown Prince of Insomnia practically whined, tugging on the young servant’s shoulders. “Don’t do this to me. I told you.”

Guilt setting in, Prompto slowly straightened himself and looked at Noctis with a slight frown. “You know what would happen if I got caught not bowing or addressing you by your title, right?”

Noctis crossed his arms over his dark shirt and gave Prompto a look. “What are they going to do?” he asked in reply. “I’m the _prince_.”

“Tell your father?”

Noctis deflated a little before he puffed back up. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Prompto smiled a bit and tried not to blush. He didn’t understand why he’d won the prince’s favor in such a way, but sometimes he felt they could’ve been best friends if he’d been born into a noble family.

If only.

“Where’s Gladio?”

“I ditched him.”

Prompto lifted an eyebrow and edged closer to Noctis. “Why?”

Noctis shrugged. “Because it’s fun, and I like making him come find me.” He lowered his voice and leaned in. “Makes the sex pretty awesome later.”

Prompto reeled back in surprise as his blush deepened. “When were you going to tell me about _that_?” he exclaimed in a whisper.

“I haven’t seen you in a while!” Noctis protested. “Ignis has been keeping you super busy lately. What’s up with that?”

Prompto shrugged and shook his head, glancing down the hall towards Ignis room. “I don’t know,” he answered, keeping his voice low. “He’s acting strange, affectionate even. Like, suddenly we’re not servant and master anymore, but…friends, or something. Almost like he’s…worried.”

And then Prompto recalled how a dream had woken Ignis last night, and how the strange behavior had started right after. Did this have something to do with Ignis’s dream?

Suddenly aware that he’d taken a bit too long to get back to the Adviser, Prompto stepped back and bowed to Noctis before he could protest. “I have to go,” he said, turning to leave.

“Wait!” the prince exclaimed, turning with Prompto. “I’m going to be at our place later, try and meet me there?”

“If Ignis doesn’t need me,” was all Prompto could promise and Noctis understood, although he wasn’t happy about it.

When Prompto entered Ignis’s quarters, he found the Adviser at his piano, playing a soft tune. The sound of the young servant’s return brought him to a stop and he turned on the bench to face the door.

“Prompto?” he questioned cautiously – although he recognized Prompto’s footsteps, he always wanted to be sure.

“Yes, my Lord,” Prompto confirmed as he shut the door, remembering his titles this time.

Smiling, Ignis turned back to the piano. “Let me ask you something, Prompto,” he said as he began playing softly again. “If someone were to ask you how to gain all the riches of the world, what would you tell them?”

Prompto was caught off-guard by the question and stood thinking about it for several minutes. He wondered why Ignis would ask him this, and what he expected to hear in response. Would he punish Prompto if his answer was wrong?

“I…guess I would say it isn’t possible,” Prompto found himself saying, fidgeting with the hem of his dark shirt as he considered his answer.

Ignis’s fingers stilled on the keys as he turned his head towards his servant. “And why is that?”

“Aren’t riches relative?” Prompto braved to respond. “What’s rich to me may not be rich to you. One could value love over money. Does this person want both? _Can_ they have both, or all of the riches, whatever they are?” He fell silent, feeling embarrassed by his response.

“What do you value, Prompto?” Ignis asked softly. “What do you consider to be the riches of the world?”

Without hesitating, Prompto answered, “love, and happiness.” He blushed furiously and turned away, but felt a hand take his own.

“A noble answer.”

Prompto begged to differ, but said nothing as Ignis released his hand and reached for his cane. Helping him, Prompto stepped back and asked, “what are you plans for today, sire?”

“I have a meeting on the lower levels,” Ignis answered. “After that, we will have to see what time I have left.”

Prompto nodded and headed to the door. “Of course,” he said. “Do you want me to stay with you during the meeting?”

He didn’t expect Ignis to hesitate.

“I think it best you stay outside for this one.”

“Are you sure?” Prompto asked, trying not to sound too concerned or worried as he shut the door behind them and ventured back to the lift with Ignis.

“I will call you if I need you.”

* * *

Ignis entered the conference room alone, walking in with his head held high and his cane at his side. He expected no offers of assistance and did not receive one, but made it to the chair he knew was directly in front of him. Instead of sitting, however, he remained standing and turned his head towards where he expected the men waiting were.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

“You have put us off for quite some time, Sir Ignis,” answered a voice, thin and dry, but something about his voice told Ignis he was nobility.

“Yeah, you’ve stalled long enough,” another voice, deeper, echoed the first.

Ignis tilted his head towards them but smiled almost in pity at their insistence. “I have told you before, gentlemen, I cannot give you what you seek.”

“That’s bullshit!” the man with the deeper voice shouted, standing abruptly and sending his chair skidding back. “You know where it is! Give it up!”

“Caligo…” the first voice warned.

“The only location I can give you,” Ignis answered as if the outburst had not occurred, “is of the door directly behind me. I cannot give you the riches you seek. It is impossible, folly. It was a foolish question to begin with. Even a child would know this.”

The sound of another chair moving backwards caught Ignis’s attention and he turned his head towards the noise. “And you know just as well, that that was not our question,” the first man spoke. “We did not ask you for riches, we asked you for the quicksilver.”

Ignis feigned ignorance, something he was quite good at when he wanted to be. He knew how to stall. “Is that not the treasure you seek? Is that not what would guarantee your—” He quieted when a knife was put against his throat and tilted his chin up. How could he have missed the behemoth of Caligo behind him – his breath reeked.

“Killing me will ensure you never get the answer you seek,” Ignis warned, remaining calm. There was no need to be alarmed, yet.

“Yeah, but it’d get rid of a problem I’m having!” Caligo huffed in reply, his rank breath washing over Ignis as a result.

“Do not kill him,” the first man said, the sound of boots on the hard floor indicating he was walking around the table, and Ignis detected the soft sound of metal, but he couldn’t figure out…where. It wasn’t a weapon, it was too heavy. “There are _other_ things we can do.”

Ignis stiffened at those words and decided he had had enough. Without warning, he flung his cane upright past his head, slapping Caligo square in the face and causing the man to drop the knife as he howled in pain. Ignis bent forward, spun on his right heel, and swung his leg back and up, roundhousing Caligo and sending him sprawling to the floor.

“If I hear from either of you again, you shall regret it,” the Adviser said as he fixed his cuffs and jacket and rested the end of his cane on the ground before him. “Now _go_.”

The sound of their footsteps retreating and the door opening was all Ignis needed to sag into the chair before him. He was rattled and it had taken everything in him not to show it. He was running out of time and had no one he could trust to help him, did he?

“Ignis?”

Stiffening at the realization he’d forgotten about Prompto, Ignis straightened in the chair and turned towards the sound of Prompto’s rapidly approaching steps.

“Are you alright? I heard shouting.”

Ignis offered a smile and touched the hand that had settled on his shoulder. “Everything is fine,” he assured, doing his best to put on the front that he sold so well. “Let us return to my room.”

They left the conference room and walked side-by-side back to Ignis’s quarters in silence. Prompto wanted to say something, but couldn't figure out what. Something had happened in that conference room, and from the way those men left, it couldnt' have been anything good. It worried him. They were only a few steps away from their destination when Ignis paused and turned to Prompto. “Prompto, forgive me, but I need some time alone, to think,” he said, startling his servant.

“A-are you sure?” Prompto asked, worry etched in every part of the question.

“I promise you, nothing is wrong,” Ignis said, reaching to touch the younger man’s cheek. “Return in an hour.”

He didn't want for a response as he turned and walked away.

Prompto could still feel his touch as he watched Ignis go into his room alone.

* * *

Noctis was laughing as he crawled through the small hole in the wall, hearing Gladio spout out curses when he realized the prince was escaping him once again. They were in the Gardens and Noctis had managed to hide his secret spot for a solid year until Gladio caught him crawling through one day a few weeks ago.

Squirming out into the alcove on the other side, Noctis peered back through the hole but didn’t see any sign of the bodyguard and grinned until he backed away into something solid. It took a second for the cologne to reach his nostrils and he whirled around in shock to find Gladio behind him, tattooed arms crossed with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You think I was gonna let you crawl in here again without figurin’ another way in?” the big man asked before he pinned the prince against the wall and smirked. “Guess again, princess.”

“Not fair!” Noctis all but whined, but it was half-hearted as he was half-hard already from the shove alone. So sue him, he liked it a little rough.

By the time Prompto’s head poked through the hole in the wall, Gladio had a hand down Noctis’s pants and his face buried in the prince’s neck before either of them noticed the new arrival. The bodyguard flew off Noctis as if he was on fire and the prince whined at the loss of that warm body against his own.

“ _Gladio_ …”

“You even told him about our _spot_?” Prompto asked in exasperation, still on the ground and only halfway through the hole.

“Well, he finally found me,” the prince explained as if it were obvious. “And then found another way in.” He pointed up at the opening of the alcove above them, which was _just_ wide enough for Gladio’s wide frame.

Prompto pulled himself the rest of the way inside and got comfortable on the cushions they’d smuggled in. “Uh huh,” he was saying, glancing at the prince’s exposed state before Noctis blushed and fixed himself as Gladio crossed his arms.

“Noct…”

“Gladio, you know he’s cool,” Noctis said, pushing himself off the wall and pressing himself to Gladio’s side. “We can have fun later.”

“You can have fun now, I don’t care,” Prompto interjected from the cushions as he sighed and got comfortable. “I have an hour to kill.”

“Really?” Noctis asked in surprise. “Why?”

Prompto shrugged and looked up at the prince. “I don’t know, he said he needed time alone to think.”

“Ignis? No way.”

Both Noctis and Prompto looked at Gladio, but Prompto nodded. “I don’t like it at all, but what can I do?” he asked as he folded his arms behind his head and stared up through the opening in the alcove. It was less of an alcove and more like an old storage room that had been sealed off and was crumbling apart, but it served perfectly as a secret room nevertheless.

Gladio and Noctis exchanged looks, but said nothing before Gladio plopped down on the cushion beside Prompto and tugged Noctis into his lap. “You really gonna stay the whole hour?”

“Gladio, stop being a dick.”

Prompto couldn’t help a soft snort as he turned his head to look up at them. “Just gonna take a power nap,” he said. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to get it out of your system.”

Noctis and Gladio exchanged a look before the bodyguard grinned.

“Challenge accepted.”

* * *

When Prompto opened his eyes, he didn’t know where he was. Hadn’t he just been in the alcove? How’d he get back to…wait, this was the hall in by Ignis’s room? He looked around and wondered if maybe he’d imagined Ignis’s orders and perhaps he’d daydreamed or something, but shook off the strange feeling and stepped forward to let himself in.

Only Ignis wasn’t there.

“My Lord?” he called in confusion, looking around, but no response came and for some reason, Prompto found himself panicking. He backed up out of the room, just as a flurry of motion caught his eye and he glanced over just as something rounded the corner at the far end of the hall.

Who was that? Was it Ignis?

“Wait!” he called, running down the hall after the figure, but when he reached the corner and turned, the stranger he followed was rounding the next corner. It couldn’t have been Ignis, the man couldn’t move that fast (or if he could, Prompto had never seen him!)

And it continued, every time Prompto thought he was catching up, the strange figure was always a corner ahead. The Citadel was a big place, but they were only on one floor, how many corners could there be?

By the time Prompto thought this, he realized the halls had gotten darker, like he was underground and going somewhere secret, but how?

Not to mention, where _was_ everyone?

After one final corner, Prompto came to a halt when he found himself before a pitch-black hallway and he took a tentative step back in fright. What the hell was _this_? Where had the person gone? Where was Ignis? What was going _on_?

Fear gripped him as he took another step back, but just as he did, a light appeared at the far end of the hall, beckoning him forward. Without even thinking, Prompto broke into a run after it and saw it was coming from a doorway. It felt like ages before he reached it, but once he did, he stopped, looking in before he entered.

Inside the wide room was Ignis, standing with his back to the doorway before a large grand piano. Prompto thought to call out to him, but something held him back and he didn’t understand what or why. It was like a voice compelling him to watch, to listen, and not to interrupt. So he did, violet-blue eyes following Ignis as the Adviser approached the white piano like he could see it, sitting up on its bench and resting his cane beside him.

Placing his fingers on the keys, Ignis took a breath before he began playing and Prompto perked up in surprise, recognizing the song’s intro from times past that Ignis had played it for him.

And then, Ignis _sang_.

Chills ran down Prompto’s back and along his arms as he listened to the sound of the other man’s rich voice singing words that made no sense yet Prompto somehow understood perfectly. He stood entranced as he watched the Adviser’s fingers fly expertly along the ivory keys, saw the emotion in his face as the tempo picked up and his voice sang louder.

And then the image appeared before Ignis and Prompto had to clamp a hand over his mouth so the other man wouldn’t hear his gasp.

Ignis was a _Dreamweaver_.

Torn between watching Ignis and the image taking shape, Prompto finally looked to the picture coming to life, vivid colors swirling in the air like a moving painting before he realized one of the forms was him and he gasped behind his hand again.

Why was Ignis singing about him?

He could see that he was doing something, could see he was holding something shining in his hand and was…he singing? Prompto drew back in surprise, but kept watching, intrigued beyond words at what he was seeing before Ignis turned his head and looked right at him.

The glasses were gone, and those green eyes, patched on one side with a faint purple scar, stared _right_ at him.

* * *

Prompto gasped awake and startled Gladio and Noctis out of their makeout session. The big man’s hand was down the prince’s pants once more and he growled in frustration.

“Oh _come the fuck on_.”

Noctis squirmed a bit as he looked at Gladio. “Excuse you, I’m the one with a hand in my pants, not you.”

Prompto was still too stunned from what he saw to be bothered by their conversation and it was only just now occurring to him that what he saw was probably a dream.

“I told you guys I don’t care,” he said distantly. No, it couldn't have been a dream. He wasn't trying to deny it because he hated it, but it...it felt too _real_. It _couldn't_ have been a dream!

Even the sounds of wet kissing and Noctis’s soft moans weren’t enough to shake him out of it as he crawled back to the hole in the wall. He had no idea how long it had been, but he had to find Ignis now.

* * *

At the same time as Prompto woke from the dream, Ignis’s singing came to an abrupt halt as he felt to his knees in his room. A hand flew to his chest and gripped as the pain wracked his body.

He was running out of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys SO much for your interest so far. this makes me super happy and I'm so glad some of y'all have found it worth a second look. please let me know what you think, your comments give me life <3
> 
> \--
> 
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> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompto confronts ignis  
> before unexpected visitors arrive

Prompto ran down the halls of the Citadel to get back to Ignis’s room. He didn’t know why he was so anxious, so desperate to return, but he had to know, he had to understand what he just saw. He reached the lift and jammed his finger on the button even after the doors closed, foot tapping as he shifted his weight impatiently.

As soon as the doors opened, he flew out of the lift and to Ignis’s room, nearly bursting through the door before he stopped himself. He took a moment to calm down, not wanting the other man’s rather exceptional hearing to pick up how hard he was breathing from running the whole way.

Feeling satisfied he’d calmed down enough, Prompto entered his master’s room and found Ignis on the windowsill. The Adviser turned from the window at the sound of Prompto’s return, lifting an eyebrow.

“Has it been an hour already?” he asked.

Prompto shook his head. “…I don’t know,” he admitted. “I fell asleep.”

Ignis’s head tilted, almost birdlike. “Did you now?” He lowered his feet to the floor and stood, cane in hand. “What changed?”

“It was an accident!” Prompto protested a little too quickly, flushing as he turned away. He didn’t know what to make of Ignis’s silence, and he frowned when he realized he was embarrassed to admit what he’d come back here to say. “…I dreamed, I think.”

Ignis drew in a sharp breath, but walked to his piano and sat down on its bench instead, facing the younger man. He patted the spot beside him and turned his head towards Prompto expectantly. The servant looked up in surprise, hesitating, which always seemed to make Ignis smile.

“Tell me.”

“I’d rather not,” Prompto mumbled before wincing. “My Lord.”

There was a long pause before Ignis patted the spot beside him again. “Tell me your dream, and I will no longer require you to address me like that private.”

Prompto couldn’t help staggering back a step. “W-what?”

“I believe you heard me quite clearly, Prompto.”

Prompto did not know what to do with this information. His heart was pounding and he felt panicky for some reason. It almost felt like Ignis had severed the tie they had as servant and master, something Prompto relied on and could at least cling to with its familiarity. Why would Ignis take that away except…

Refusing to go down that thought train, Prompto hesitantly stepped forward and took a seat next to Ignis on the piano’s bench. “You,” he said in a quiet voice. “I dreamed of you.” He hesitated and looked away, even if Ignis couldn’t see him. “You were a Dreamweaver.”

“How interesting,” Ignis mused, matching Prompto’s volume as he inclined his head towards the younger man beside him. “Is that all?”

“Mostly,” Prompto replied, “you were singing about me.”

“Mm, a noteworthy subject.”

Prompto blushed and looked away again, unsure of how to handle that comment. This felt playful, casual even, but despite their years together, their familiarity, this was not something Ignis did. Realizing this, Prompto looked back to Ignis and tried not to jump at the way the other man seemed to be… _watching_ him.

“My L—I mean, um, ugh…” Prompto winced. “Last night, what did you dream about?”

Ignis tilted his head in surprise, straightening a little. “Why do you ask? I thought you did not like to discuss such matters.”

Prompto couldn’t help a scoff. “I feel like we’re beyond that now,” he said. “You’ve been…different since last night. Don’t tell me I’m wrong. I know you.”

“Do you?” Ignis asked with a wry smile and for once, Prompto realized what the other man was doing. He was deflecting, hiding behind his charm.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Prompto rose from the bench and walked a few steps away. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed. You should give me more credit than that.” He laughed a little, a little uncomfortable with his honesty but something told him it would be okay. “It’s my job, right?”

“Prompto…”

“No, Ignis, it’s fine,” the younger man insisted as he went to take his place by the door, unaware Ignis had risen to his feet and was approaching him. He turned around and jumped in surprise to find Ignis right behind him.

“ _Prompto_ ,” the Adviser repeated, sternly and Prompto quieted, aware now that he had rambled in his frustration. “You are right. I am sorry.”

It had been a long time since they’d been this close, barely standing a foot apart for reasons other than helping Ignis dress or bathe. Surely Ignis knew how close he was?

Oh, Six, why was he _leaning in_?

“I did not realize,” Ignis said softly as he took one of Prompto’s hands with startling accuracy once again.

“It wasn’t a good dream, was it?” Prompto breathed out, gaze dipping to briefly glance at Ignis’s lips. Were they going to _kiss_? He found himself leaning forward, so close...

“No, it was not,” Ignis confirmed before he drew back with a sigh, disappointing Prompto as their hands pulled apart. “I…” He hesitated and the younger man immediately felt guilty.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said, squeezing the hand holding his own. If Ignis was hesitating, it couldn’t possibly be something Prompto needed to know.

Could it?

“I should not keep it from you,” Ignis tried to explain before a knock sounded on the door, surprising them both.

Prompto gave Ignis once last glance – even if the other man couldn’t see it – and turned to open the door. He cracked it open and blinked when he saw Nyx standing on the other side. The King had two personal guards – Cor and Nyx – so to find one of them standing on the other side of Ignis’s door was…odd.

“Nyx?” Prompto asked, happy to see the other man, but confused. “Is something wrong?”

“Not really,” Nyx assured with a warm smile that always made Prompto a little weak in the knees. “King Regis has summoned Ignis to the throne room. Not wild about being His Majesty’s errand boy, but he asked I escort Ignis personally.”

“Well, I could’ve done th—”

The grimace on Nyx’s face cut Prompto off before the Kingsglaive could explain. “—He also asked you remain here, Prompto…” He glanced past the servant to Ignis. “Sorry.”

“Whatever could his reasons be for such a request?” Ignis interjected as he stepped forward.

Prompto opened the door further to allow Ignis past as Nyx extended his hand to guide the blind Adviser to him.

“Prompto is to be with me at all times, even His Majesty knows this.”

The grimace only deepened on Nyx’s face as he shook his head. “I know Ignis, but this order comes from him directly,” he tried to explain. “By all means, ask him when we get to the throne room.”

Ignis hesitated as if he knew something weren’t right about this but he had no idea what it could be. What motive could be behind this decision that didn’t have something ulterior behind it?

“Prompto, wait for me here,” the Adviser instructed. “I will not be long.”

Unable to help his frown, Prompto nodded before remembering himself. “Of course, my Lord,” he said, glancing up at Nyx, who mouthed another apology and escorted Ignis down the hall.

And Prompto could only watch.

* * *

It had been an hour and Ignis had not yet returned. Prompto was pacing in the Adviser’s room by that point, unable to help the feeling that something was wrong. Not wrong as in Ignis was in danger, though he couldn’t exactly rule that out, but the King never summoned Ignis in such a manner, or insist that Ignis and Prompto be separated.

Just as Prompto thought to go to the throne room and find out what was going on, a knock sounded at the door. Ignis wouldn’t knock on the door to his own room, yet Prompto couldn’t help feeling relieved that someone was there, who knew, maybe it was Nyx? He went to open it only to find two men standing on the other side.

He frowned before realizing he recognized them from their meeting this morning with Ignis. The portly man was smirking and his greasy appearance only made the tall, slender white-haired man at his side look all the more godly. But those cold blue eyes under fine brows glared at Prompto as a metal arm flashed out from beneath his white cape and snatched Prompto by the arm.

Yelping, the young servant tried to yank his arm away, but the metal arm held fast, undeterred by Prompto’s human strength. He was spun around and shoved into the heavier man’s hands, but fury took over him and he fought. He elbowed the man in the stomach, stomped on his foot with his boot, flung his fist up and back to smack him in the nose before bringing it back down and slamming it into his assailant’s groin.

A strangled noise of distress escaped the man’s lips as he sagged to his knees, clutching his groin and struggling for breath, and Prompto bolted as soon as those hands left his arms. He made it two steps before that metal arm hooked in the collar of his shirt and yanked him back. Just as he thought to squirm out of his shirt and get away, the cold touch of that arm turned him around and smacked him hard across the face.

Prompto went flying and fell onto the floor, dazed as his vision swam and he tasted blood and felt the warmth of it staining his face, but he forced himself up onto his hands, trembling as he tried to get to his feet. He had to get away, he couldn’t let himself be caught – he had to find Ignis.

A boot stomped his back and forced him onto the floor, and he barely caught a glimpse of the white-haired man hovering over him while the fat one howled in the background.

“ _Quiet_ ,” the slender man hissed, distracted by the sounds of his comrade and missing the presence of the new arrival behind him until a cane slapped his hand away from reaching for Prompto.

Ignis’s head tilted in confusion at the metal that met his cane before it suddenly occurred to him the man had a prosthetic arm. He frowned but wasted no time in going on the offensive, wielding his cane as a weapon as he drove the white-haired man away from Prompto. He called out for the young man, but received no response and went into a rage.

Prompto struggled on the floor, but he couldn’t make the hall stop spinning. It took him a full minute to realize Ignis was…fighting? But how?

His arms gave out from beneath him and he collapsed back onto the cool floor, watching Ignis fight in his dizzy haze, feeling a distant sense of pride and respect and…dare he say _affection_ that Ignis was desperately trying to save him, when it should’ve been Prompto fighting, it should’ve been him defending Ignis.

And then the white-haired man got lucky - he clocked Ignis in the temple with his metal arm and the Adviser crumpled to the ground. Prompto let out a weak cry of protest and reached an arm out, touching Ignis’s bare hand which twitched before turning to grip Prompto’s.

Distantly, Prompto could hear the two men arguing heatedly a few feet away, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Ignis. He didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know why they were being attacked, or if they were about to die, but having Ignis there put him at ease for some reason.

 _Prompto_ , Ignis voice said in his head and he gasped in alarm, unaware he’d drawn the slender man’s attention. It was only then he could hear a soft hum and he knew. He knew Ignis was singing, he knew his dream was real.

Ignis really was a Dreamweaver.

A happy tear fell from Prompto’s eye and he found that he was smiling before he was suddenly yanked off the ground and thrown over the fat man’s shoulder. He let out another weak cry, squirming, but his strength was gone and he couldn’t see straight.

 _Prompto...!_ Ignis’s voice was weak now, distant and Prompto realized in his haze that the man was losing consciousness and maybe, so was he. _Do not fear them, say nothing. I will find you. I promise._

_I will find you. I won’t let them have you._

Prompto’s vision faded and his stomach heaved. Then his world went black.

* * *

“Ignis!”

Nyx charged down the hall at the sight of the unconscious Adviser on the floor, sliding onto his knees and touching the other man gently. “Ignis?” he called again before he saw the bloody gash at his temple and drew back in alarm.

“We have a Code Red,” he said, touching his earpiece. “Specs is down, I repeat: Code Red, Specs is down. I need backup and medical up here stat.”

Drawing his daggers, Nyx rose up into a crouched position and inched towards the door to Ignis’s room, which stood ajar, but no one was inside from what he could see with a visual sweep of the room. He called for Prompto but received no response and stiffened.

It was only when he turned back around that he saw the pool of blood opposite Ignis. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell Nyx that someone else had been on the floor bleeding, and from the smear, it was Prompto and he’d been moved, taken.

“Prompto is missing,” Nyx reported into his earpiece, trying to control his anger. He knew, he knew something was wrong about this whole situation and now Prompto was gone.

Dropping back down to Ignis’s side, one hand still holding his dagger while the other touched the Adviser’s back gently, Nyx tried to calm down. “Ignis?” he tried again, fearing the worst before there was a groan of discomfort and Ignis stirred beneath his touch.

“Prompto…!” the blind Adviser gasped, jerking in alarm as he tried to get up but Nyx held him down and he tensed.

“Ignis, it’s me, Nyx,” the Kingsglaive quickly assured. “Stay still, you’ve got a nasty blow to the head.” When Ignis relaxed ever so slightly beneath his hand, Nyx sighed. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“They took him,” Ignis explained, voice sounding almost _choked_ with emotion. “I tried to stop them, I…I failed.”

Before Nyx could reply, a voice shouted from the end of the hall.

“Iggy!”

Looking up, Nyx was surprised to see Prince Noctis bolting down the hall towards them, followed closely by Gladio, who looked just as concerned to see the Adviser down on the floor as Noctis. He met Nyx’s gaze and tapped his own earpiece in silent explanation and Nyx nodded as the prince fell to the floor before Ignis.

“Iggy, are you okay?” he gasped. “Where’s Prompto?”

Ignis tried to turn his head away in shame but winced in pain and sagged in defeat and Noctis looked up sharply at Nyx in alarm. “…Nyx?”

“Someone took him,” was all Nyx could say.

“How?” Gladio barked in fury. “How the hell did someone get into the Citadel and take him? Why would they take a servant?”

“Don’t call him that!” Noctis snapped as he rose to his feet and glared up at Gladio. “He’s my friend!”

Gladio seemed taken aback by the prince's outburst. “Noct, I didn’t…I didn’t mean it like _that_ …”

Nyx was so distracted by their exchange, he almost missed the other Kingsglaives arriving, moving out of the way to let the med officers tend to Ignis. They treated the wound and asked Ignis several questions, stabilizing him and bandaging his head before Gladio picked up the blind Adviser and carried him inside his room.

Making sure Ignis was alright, the med officers left instructions that Ignis was _not_ to get up before they left him in the care of the other Kingsglaives. Nyx was issuing orders to up security and review all cameras before he heard Noctis calling him from inside Ignis’s room. He stepped inside, seeing the prince motioning to Ignis urgently.

“The one I fought,” Ignis breathed. “My cane stuck something metal. I believe it was his arm. And the other man – he was, dare I say on the _large_ side.”

Nyx felt relieved to have some sort of description and reached forward to touch Ignis’s shoulder in reassurance. “This will help,” he said, turning to go and relate the information to the other Kingsglaives, but Ignis grabbed his hand before Nyx could pull it away.

“Find him, Nyx,” he whispered, tone fierce and desperate. “I cannot emphasize enough how important it is that you do…”

Nyx frowned a little before he looked at Noctis and watched the prince get to his feet. “Nyx, I want you to do it,” he said, “I want you to find him. Find Prompto, _please_.”

It wasn’t an order Nyx could take lightly – it meant disobeying the king (by not protecting him) in order to help those he considered his friends. He cared for the blond, enjoyed his company when they bumped into each other and went the same way down a hall, but he didn’t understand Ignis’s desperation, or why Noctis was so personally involved.

Nyx glanced at Gladio and watched in surprise as the big man nodded in silent agreement. “Guess I got no choice,” he said with a teasing smile before he let out a sigh and turned back to Ignis. “Is there _anything_ else you can tell me?”

* * *

Prompto gasped awake on a cold dark floor and cringed at the pain pulsating from his head. He curled up, holding his stomach and trying not to vomit before the events that let to his unconsciousness came rushing back to him in a wave.

_The men, the fight, Ignis..._

Ignis!

Flying upright, Prompto immediately regretted the decision and threw up in the corner of the room, groaning quietly as the room spun. He’d never been hit before and he hoped this was the last time, it _sucked_ , but he tried to shake it off and start paying attention.

Where was he? What could he see? What could he do? Did he have _anything_ to work with? Could he hear anything that would tell him where he was?

Before he could make any observations, there was a noise at the door and a panel slid open. Prompto looked up in alarm to see the fat man peering inside. His eyes fell on the servant and he laughed.

“He’s awake!” he called back over his shoulder before he looked back at Prompto. “If Ignis isn’t gonna give us what we want, we’ll take something for ourselves.” His lip curled in a sneer as Prompto shakily got to his feet. “You’re gonna be here for a _long_ time, blondie. We’re gonna have _fun_.”

Prompto didn’t like the tone that came with that last statement or the way the man was eyeing him, but he’d be _damned_ if he was going to let this fat fuck see him afraid. He made it to the door and socked the man in the eye through the panel, smiling as the man yowled in pain and stumbled back from the door.

 _Ignis, please_ , Prompto thought to himself, knowing he’d made things worse but he was not going to go down without a fight. _Hurry_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.
> 
> things _may_ get dark in the next chapter. i don't expect to write anything explicit (my heart can't take it), but there may be darker themes in the next chapter - just a head's up.
> 
> \--
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dragonbornette) | [tumblr](https://dragonbornette.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ignis worries for prompto and confesses something to the prince.  
> ravus is a bastard.
> 
> Warning: there is some attempted non-con in here, so...proceed with caution. Nothing explicit.

His throbbing head brought Ignis out of his slumber. His eyes opened and he let out a soft groan of discomfort, and a hand lifted to touch the bandage as he called Prompto’s name before…

His breath caught in his throat and he felt a surge of emotion within him.

Prompto was gone.

“Iggy?” a new voice questioned and it took a moment for Ignis to recognize it as Noctis. “…You okay?”

“Your Highness—”

“—Stop that,” Noctis said, the sound of his footsteps approaching before the bed dipped next to Ignis. “You’ve known me since I was young enough to wet the bed, don’t call me that.”

Ignis tried to smile but the moment he tried, he felt his lips quiver. A pang in his stomach resounded every time he thought about Prompto and he couldn’t…

“Nyx left a couple of hours ago,” Noctis advised after a moment, taking one of Ignis’s hands in his. “He said he had a lead on the name you gave him, Caligo. He’ll let Gladio know the minute he finds out _anything_.”

Ignis gripped the prince’s hand and nodded wordlessly, untrusting of his voice to not fail him. He didn’t want Noctis to know—

“—I know how much Prompto means to you.”

The comment startled Ignis and Noctis grinned despite himself. He always took it as a personal achievement whenever he caught Ignis off guard. But he brushed it off and grew serious again.

“You didn’t tell him, did you.”

Ignis closed his eyes and turned his head away despite the pain. “No, I have not.”

Noctis sighed and stood up from the bed in sudden frustration. “The longer you keep it from him, the more dangerous it gets.”

“I know,” Ignis replied. “I am disappointed in myself.”

Frowning, Noctis sat back down and took Ignis’s hand again. “How did they find out?” he asked. “How did those men know?”

Turning his head back towards the prince, Ignis shook his head. “That is precisely the problem, Noct,” he said, voice trembling. “They do not know. They have no idea what they hold in their hands and that’s what makes this so dangerous.”

Noctis frowned at the level of emotion in Ignis’s voice and he tilted his head before he smiled a little. “Ohh…”

Ignis blinked at that response. “What?”

“This isn’t just about what he is, is it?” the prince questioned, grinning when Ignis’s ears turned a soft shade of pink.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Iggy, say it for me.”

Ignis’s jaw clenched but it hurt his temple and he had to relax it. “Noctis, _stop_.”

“ _Iggyyyyyy._ ”

“This is _not_ the time.”

“Just once, say it once.”

“ _Noctis_.”

“For me?”

Ignis sighed in exasperation, covering his face with his other hand. “…I love him.”

Noctis squeaked and a deep laugh sounded from across the room. “Six, Iggy, it’s about time.”

“I detest both of you.”

Noctis climbed over Ignis and got comfortable against the Adviser. “Do not.”

“How can either of you joke at a time like this?” Ignis asked, although he didn’t push the prince away.

“Because Nyx is going to find him,” Noctis affirmed, resting his head on Ignis’s shoulder, mindful of his bandaged head inches away, “and when he brings Prompto back, we tell him everything.”

“You will tell him nothing,” Ignis corrected. “This is my duty.”

Noctis frowned and met Gladio’s gaze across the room, but the big man could only shrug in deference to the Adviser’s decision, and that wasn’t good enough for the prince. “I want to be involved Ignis, you’ve pushed us away for long enough.”

“A decision I regret, I assure you,” Ignis answered in a quiet voice, “but that does not change what I must do. You see it as an opportunity to raise Prompto up in the world, but he may not see it the same way.”

“I don’t think you know him as well as you think you do.”

Ignis lifted an eyebrow and turned his head towards the prince at his side. “I beg to differ, he has been at my side for _years_.”

Tensing, Noctis sat up and glared daggers down at Ignis. “As your _servant_ ,” he reminded, watching Ignis flinch and turn his head away again.

“Very well,” Ignis whispered. “When I tell him, you may accompany me.”

“Played like a damn fiddle,” Gladio commented from the window, causing Noctis to giggle and Ignis to sigh.

He hated that Gladio was right, but appreciated that he didn’t have to go through this alone. He prayed with all that was in him that Prompto was safe and unharmed.

If something happened, Ignis wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself.

* * *

Prompto jerked awake once he realized he’d fallen asleep, frowning for several reasons. He was angry that he’d fallen asleep in the first place, and disappointed that no dreams had come to him. He’d hoped Ignis would have reached out, called to him and reassured him that things would be okay, but then he recalled that Ignis had been injured too.

What if he wasn’t okay?

Before he could think on it too long, Prompto heard noises coming from outside his door and pushed himself up onto his feet, pressing his ear to the cool steel and trying to concentrate.

“… _Kingsglaive is searching the city, Ravus! How did he let that happen_?!” Caligo sounded panicked and Prompto smirked.

“ _Calm yourself, Caligo_ ,” Ravus sounded tense but kept his voice steady. “ _It was bound to happen. We abducted someone from within the Citadel. He has to keep up appearances._ ” He paused. “ _But there’s been no word from Ignis. We were specifically told if we took his servant, things would slip into motion._ ”

“ _Maybe the little blond isn’t so important after all,”_ Caligo suggested, a tone in his voice that Prompto didn’t like. “ _Maybe Ignis played it up._ ”

“ _I doubt it_ ,” Ravus dismissed as his voice seemed to draw nearer to the door. “ _But I think we know who to get our answers from_.”

Oh shit.

Prompto backed away from the door and tried not to look like he’d been listening, unsure of his success when the door swung open and Ravus entered, alone. Part of Prompto was relieved Caligo had stayed behind but the rest of him worried why.

 _Do not fear them_ , Ignis had said. _Say nothing_.

But Ravus was an intimidating man. He was as tall as Ignis, draped in whites and silvers that belied his malicious intent, and not to mention that metal arm. He studied Prompto with intense blue eyes and, wait, was one purple?, as he took slow steps to approach the servant.

“What is your significance in reference to Ignis?” Ravus asked, voice cold. “Why are you so important to him?”

Prompto wanted to answer, wanted to tell him he was just a servant and had been with Ignis for years, that’s all, but he kept his mouth shut. Ignis told him to say nothing, and that’s what he was going to do. He backed away from Ravus but was startled to find the wall was already at his back and Ravus was still coming.

“You should know your place, little one,” Ravus hissed as he approached and pressed his metal hand into Prompto’s throat. “You answer when asked a question.”

Prompto let out a strangled cry of fright and surprise, his mind going blank when his air was cut off. He knew how to fight, he was taught how to fight, yet all he could think to do was pull at the hand on his throat.

His vision swam before he finally thought to kick at Ravus’s groin, and although the taller man dodged it, the hand released on Prompto’s throat and he sunk to the floor as he sucked in sweet air.

“You little _shit_ ,” Ravus seethed, grabbing Prompto by the shoulder and throwing him onto his stomach before he straddled the servant from behind.

The metal arm pinned Prompto down and he knew he had no chance against it – its strength was inhuman. “This is all _beyond_ you and your pitiful state of being,” Ravus’s voice snapped in Prompto’s ear. “I will teach you your place, and you will tell me what I need to know.”

Prompto remained silent, even when a hand touched the waistline of his pants. He tensed in alarm, but the hand on his back pressed harder, keeping him still. His hands curled into fists but there was nothing he could do.

“You _will_ submit.”

When that hand left Prompto's back to yank his pants down, the fear sank in. He didn’t understand why he was here, what was going on, why this man thought he knew something he clearly did. And why that meant he deserved what was about to happen.

But just as he heard the zipper on Ravus’s pants come undone, there was a commotion outside the door. Prompto nearly sobbed in relief when the ivory-haired man flew off him to check and see what was going on, but the door was kicked inward, sending Ravus flying back into the wall.

Prompto jerked in alarm, fumbling with his pants as he scrambled onto his back, just in time to see Nyx storm in, daggers in hand. He threw one at Ravus without a second’s hesitation, but Ravus’s metal arm caught it and discarded the weapon with practiced ease.

Nyx’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t waste time. He threw the rest of his daggers in rapid succession and then charged the other man. Ravus dodged the daggers, but not the attack and went down when a fist connected with his face. Reaching down, Nyx yanked Ravus up into a chokehold and held firm until the man sagged in his grip, then dropped him onto the floor, breathing heavily.

Prompto watched with tears in his eyes until Nyx finally looked to him.

“Prompto!” He exclaimed, rushing over to take the blond into a firm embrace. “Shit, man, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” the young servant breathed, still holding his pants as he looked at Ravus. “H-he um, I…” He trembled, overwhelmed more now than he was while being their prisoner. “W-why did they take me?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Nyx said, pulling back to fix Prompto’s pants with a hard look in his eyes before he pulled back to help the younger man to his feet, “but you’re safe now. Come on.”

Prompto looked up in gratitude, embracing Nyx again as he fought tears this time. He was confused and in pain and a bit traumatized from Ravus’s attempted rape, but he was going home.

Or so he thought.

A shadow loomed in the doorway behind Nyx, and a flash of metal was all Prompto saw as he reached to tug the Kingsglaive out of the way.

“No!” he shouted, and was it just the way the room was built, or did his voice reverb a little?

It all felt like slow-motion as Nyx tumbled to the side and turned just in time to see the knife meant for his back, strike Prompto in the chest. He whirled around to see Caligo’s bloody form wheezing in the doorway and summoned another dagger, sending it straight for the fat man’s head.

Prompto was still on his feet blinking rapidly, as if unable to believe what had just happened. He met Nyx’s gaze and let out a cough before he sank to his knees, Nyx catching him before he could fall all the way.

“Shit, shit, shit, Prompto, stay with me,” the Kingsglaive urged as he took Prompto into his arms and rushed out of the house.

Prompto wheezed in response, trying to stop but he couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t catch his breath, his chest was on fire. “Nyx, tell…tell Ignis I’m-I’m sorry…” he stammered out.

Gods, it sounded so dramatic, but that look on Nyx’s face couldn’t have been a good sign of his chances.

“Prompto, shut up, stop talking,” Nyx instructed as he ran out of the building and into the early morning light to his bike that was waiting for him on the street. He set Prompto down and touched his earpiece.

“The package is retrieved, but damaged. Coming in hot.”

Before Nyx could get on the bike and figure out how to transport Prompto back to the Citadel, the blond slipped away from him and fell onto the ground.

“Prompto!” he shouted, falling to his knees beside the younger man. “Come on, man, hang in there. I need you here.”

Prompto didn’t respond.

* * *

Ignis stirred at the sound of knocking, grumbling in the midst of his slumber for Prompto to answer it already before his eyes opened and the ache in his chest returned.

Prompto wasn’t here.

He sat up in bed, rubbing at his face as he called for whoever it was at his door to come in. He had guards posted outside since the incident, but somehow it didn’t feel as safe without Prompto there. He closed his eyes in regret.

“Ignis?”

It was Noctis. It felt early, what would have the prince awake at such an hour?

“Highness?” Ignis asked, tilting his head towards the sound of Noctis’s voice. “Is something the matter? What time is it?”

There was a pause from the prince and Ignis knew the younger man was hesitating. “Um, Nyx…he reported in,” he began as he approached the bed. “He found Prompto.”

A hand went to Ignis’s chest and he moved to get up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him and he lifted his face in concern.

“…He’s been hurt.”

Ignis tensed under that hand before he pushed it away and got to his feet, stumbling and cursing when Noctis caught him. “Take me to him.”

“Ignis…”

“What? Is he dead?”

Noctis hesitated at that blunt question but shook his head. “No, but…”

“Then, _take me to him_.”

After helping Ignis dress, despite the other man’s protests, Noctis took the Adviser’s arm and led him out of his room. Gladio was waiting outside and frowned when they came out, but Noctis gave him a look that begged his silence and headed down the hall towards the lift.

Ignis didn’t say anything the entire time, jaw clenched, brows furrowed above his glasses. What could be so bad that it was worse than death? Or was that not the problem?

As they rounded the corner, Nyx’s head lifted from where he sat, and he jumped to his feet in alarm. He looked guilt-ridden as they approached and he bowed to the prince before turning to Ignis.

“Ignis, I…I’m sorry,” he managed. “Caligo…managed to sneak up on us after I thought I killed him, threw a knife and Prompto took the hit for me. I…” He let out a curse and dropped his head in frustration. “I don’t know how I let this happen.”

Ignis reached out and found the Kingsglaive’s arm, gripping it tightly. “Where is he?”

Nyx hesitated, glancing at Noctis and Gladio before he touched the hand holding him. “In here,” he said as he guided Ignis to the door.

“Will we lose him?”

“They don’t know,” Nyx answered as he opened the door and let them in. “It’s touch and go. The knife, it…” He cleared his throat, feeling more emotional than he expected. “It struck him directly in the heart, but…it still beats. He still lives, but… He’s not responding.”

Nyx took a step into the room, but Ignis shook his head. “…Leave me,” he instructed softly, turning his head towards the Kingsglaive.

“Are you sure?”

Ignis nodded once and although Nyx hesitated, he did as the Adviser asked, closing the door softly behind him.

Once he knew he was alone, Ignis’s shoulders slumped and he brought a hand to his face. He would _not_ get emotional, but his resolve was waning. Using his cane, the Adviser made his way around the bed and sat on the edge, reaching carefully for Prompto’s face and cupping it once he found the younger man’s cheek.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered. “I should never have left you alone, dear one.” His hand slipped down to Prompto’s, gripping it as he brought it against his face. “Where are you?”

* * *

He trembled from the cold, from the void encompassing him. His eyes did not see, his ears could not hear – he burned from a fire in his chest that refused to die out.

He could not remember how he got there.

He was frightened, but could not scream. He couldn’t cry for help.

The torturous spiral of despair enveloped him until his ears caught the faint sound of humming. A soft tune, one he recognized, and despite his dark deaf world, Prompto ran with everything in him towards that sound.

His voice refused to come, refused to let him call out and guide the song to him, but to his total and utter relief, it found _him_. A light appeared in the darkness before the young servant and shot straight to him, wrapping him its embrace, surrounding him in warmth.

The release it brought drew tears from Prompto’s eyes as he fell to his knees. There was something so familiar about the song, the warmth, the _touch_ , and then suddenly, Prompto _remembered_.

The memory of the knife sinking into his chest jerked the servant awake with a gasp, cutting off the soft singing coming from his left. Prompto’s eyes struggled to focus as Ignis’s hand tightened around his.

“…P-prompto?” Ignis’s voice sounded pained as his head tilted towards the younger man before him.

Prompto didn’t answer right away, still fighting through the haze and confusion of what was going on. He didn’t recognize where he was, didn’t understand how he’d gotten there, only remembered the knife. Yet, when he reached for his chest to touch the spot he remembered being struck, there was no wound.

Immediately, blue-violet eyes look to Ignis and water at the realization the Adviser had healed him with his song. He survived being kidnapped, almost raped, attempted murder, to be saved by the one he served.

What did that _mean_?

“…Prompto?”

Squeezing the older man’s hand, Prompto carefully sat up and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Ignis before he began to sob. Immediately, arms enclosed around him and held him, further confusing the poor servant when the sound of Ignis’s soft crying reached his ears. This was all so…new. They never… This wasn’t _normal_ for either of them – to touch, to hug, to cry.

So, when Ignis pulled back, Prompto was quick to assume he’d gone too far, wiping at his eyes and whispering a soft apology, but Ignis began to hum.

“…S-sire?” 

Ignis’s soft hum only continued before his chin lifted like he could see the young servant before him as he leaned in. His hands lifted to Prompto’s face, gloved hands caressing soft cheeks before he pressed his lips to Prompto’s.

Prompto didn’t know how much left he could handle, but something told him everything had changed in the last twenty-four hours. He reached for Ignis’s face to return the gesture and the kiss, parting his lips, letting the other man in.

Or maybe this was all still a dream. Maybe Prompto was dead, maybe none of this was real. This was why he didn’t want to dream, he didn’t want to ever experience something he couldn’t keep, but feeling it now… Prompto didn’t care anymore.

Ignis surged into the kiss when Prompto’s lips let him in, rising to his feet as his tongue slipped into that sweet mouth. It was a side of Ignis Prompto had never seen before, but there was a desperation in that kiss – fear, so he tried to assure the older man, calm him down through soft strokes on his cheeks, soft sucks of his tongue.

Pulling back, Ignis rested his forehead against the young servant’s, panting softly as he calmed himself down. “…I must tell you something, Prompto,” he whispered as Prompto’s eyes lifted to look up at him.

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long to get this one out. I really didn't feel confident anyone was really interested, but got a nice request to put up the next chapter, so I finished it up. All I can ask is that if you're reading, please let me know what you think. Comments mean the world to me and really help validate a lot of my insecurities <3
> 
> P.S. I also apologize if I shift tenses in this chapter. My other fics are in a different tense so it's hard to switch back sometimes. Fucks with my head lol
> 
> \--
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dragonbornette) | [tumblr](https://dragonbornette.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> plot-information dump.  
> a LOT of plot-information dump.

“…Huh?” Prompto drew back at the confession, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. His heart leapt into his throat, but he shoved it back down. He didn’t want to allow himself to believe for one second that what Ignis said had been real, but even if those green eyes couldn’t see, the emotion in them was still visible.

But he couldn’t help himself and gently pushed Ignis back. “S-stop joking around.”

Ignis found the hand guiding him away from Prompto and squeezed it as he shook his head. “This is hardly the time for jokes, dear Prompto,” he whispered, lifting their hands to his face and cradling his cheek against them. “Though I whole-heartedly admit my timing is poor at best here.” He settled back down onto the bed, still holding their hands against his cheek as he bowed his head. “I admit many of my decisions here are proving to be mistakes.”

Prompto didn’t know what to say. He could only stare and listen to the other man speak while still trying to wrap his mind around what he’d been told, what he’d been through, and what was still going on.

“Ignis, what’s going on?” he asked aloud, once he finally found his voice. “What happened? What’s happening?”

Ignis’s response was a sigh as he released their hands, grabbed his cane, and rose to his feet carefully. Without Prompto at his side, he used the cane to find the door, hand feeling for the knob and gripping it once he touched it. Opening the door, Prompto spotted an anxious Noctis on the other side, accompanied by Nyx and Gladio.

“Everyone, please come in,” Ignis requested softly, stepping back to allow them room.

“Even me?” Nyx inquired in surprise, hesitating in the doorway as Noctis flew past him and all but tackled Prompto in the bed.

Ignis turned his head towards the sound of the Kingsglaive’s voice, a soft smile on his lips. “Even you must be aware by now something is going on here,” he answered. “I am here to provide the answers and perhaps grant you the opportunity to repay your debt to Prompto.”

Nyx and Prompto’s gazes met from across the room, even with Noctis drowning Prompto in hugs and kisses while Gladio watched with one eyebrow raised.

“Dude, I mean,” Prompto tried to protest, gently prying Noctis off him for a moment. “He doesn’t owe me anything. I was already repaying him for coming to save me in the first place.”

“Mm, I suppose that’s true,” Ignis conceded with a gentle nod. “My point is, you can be trusted, Nyx. Do you wish to stay?”

Prompto watched the exchange as Noctis pressed himself close and held him again. He smiled a little and returned the embrace, but Ignis’s behavior and the way the other man dropped the bombshell love confession before shifting gears and inviting everyone into the room, confused Prompto. He wasn’t being given the chance to really process what he’d been told and from what he was hearing, there was more to be said, more answers hopefully, but Prompto fully expected more questions to accompany them.

Nyx met Prompto’s gaze one more before he relented and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and locking it as he took a protective stance. “I’ll stand guard,” he offered, nodding to the young blond in the bed before him, which Prompto returned.

“What I am about to say does not leave this room,” Ignis began once he felt everyone was ready, turning and using the cane to find his way back to the bed. Prompto hated to watch without helping, but the prince was practically on top of him. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Prompto,” the Adviser said once he had found the bed and sat down on its edge near the servant. “There are some things we need to tell you.”

“We?” the blond asked, frowning as he glanced to Noctis, who looked away with a short nod.

Ignis was quiet, giving the prince a chance to say something, but when the younger man remained silent, he let out a breath. “Yes,” he confirmed. “The prince is already aware of most of what I am about to tell you, if not all.” He paused, apprehension in his posture and expression. “Prompto, do you recall our conversation about the Dreamweavers?”

Nyx’s eyebrows shot up as Prompto nodded. “Of course,” the servant replied. After all, it had only been the other day. “What about it?”

“What I told you was only a part of the whole story,” Ignis said. “There is so much more involved than what I was able to explain that morning, and it is my fault I waited so long to tell you.” He bowed his head again, appearing guilty as he spoke. “You may have surmised this by now, but I… _am_ a Dreamweaver. The purge I spoke of happened when I was very young. My mother was a Dreamweaver and had passed on the gift to me. When Niflheim came for us, they killed her and stole my sight with fire. But the face of the man who took it from me will _never_ be burned from my memory.”

Ignis tensed as he spoke but he shook his head and cleared his throat softly. “My apologies, I…I should stay on topic,” he murmured. “There was— _is_ a prophecy, which states the quicksilver born of war in the hands of the enemy would be the one to save us. With their voice, they would create more than illusions, they would be able to create real things and with that power, they would stop those who continue to persecute us.” He turned his head towards Prompto as he spoke those words and Prompto drew back from that sightless gaze, even hidden by dark lenses, Ignis’s eyes seemed to bore into him.

“W-what?” the servant asked, voice trembling at what that look insinuated. “…You can’t _possibly_ be saying what I think you’re saying.” He glanced at Noctis again, but the prince still avoided his gaze in guilt, but when he looked at Gladio, he found nothing in that expression, and he knew that Nyx was just as clueless about this as he was.

“I am,” Ignis confirmed after giving Prompto a moment to process. “It is you.”

“How?” Prompto immediately countered, anger bubbling inside him although he wasn’t sure why. “How does that make _any_ sense? I’m not a Dreamweaver? I think I would’ve noticed that by now.” He hesitated because he knew this wasn’t something Ignis would lie or joke about, but he didn’t _understand_.

“How?” he finally whispered again. “…How could you even know?”

“I was there when you were found,” Ignis answered, his voice impossibly quieter. “I was left for dead by that man, but found by none other than Cor when his squadron showed up to fight off the attack from Niflheim. He got me out, to safety, but we did not get far before the wailing of an infant reached our ears.” He inclined his head towards Prompto once more. “According to Cor, they were mere moments away from executing you. But before he could intervene, he witnessed what he could only describe as a miracle.”

A smile slowly grew on Ignis’s lips. “He says your crying stopped the soldiers. They tried to hurt you, but your voice protected you. It gave Cor the chance to stop them and save you.” He sighed. “I may have been a mere child, but I knew the prophecy enough to understand what he had witnessed. I told him, convinced him as best I could, a child to an adult, insisted you remain a secret and be hidden away, not even Sir Drautos or the King could know of you. The miracle that day was that Cor listened. You were placed in foster care until you were of age to be brought to the palace and given a proper education. When the time was right, you were approached with the offer to be my servant, my right hand. Hidden in plain sight until we could tell you the truth.”

Prompto sat in shock for what felt like an eternity. He still wasn’t convinced but had nothing to back up his argument, but he realized something was missing from the story and glanced up at the prince beside him. “…If…if I was a secret, how come Noctis knows and not the king?”

“A mixture of opportunity and fate,” Ignis replied with a smile Noctis matched.

“Iggy saw it as an opportunity,” Noctis corrected, glancing at the Adviser before he looked back at Prompto. “For me, it was fate.” He smiled and took his friend’s hand. “Do you remember when we met? When you came to the Citadel for the first time and you saw me and we became friends after like five minutes?” He waited for Prompto to nod and smiled a little in relief. “He asked me to help keep you safe, and told me the truth, trusting me to keep the secret but he was worried he was gonna need help to tell you when the time came. Who better than the prince?”

He grinned but it faltered in worry as he searched Prompto’s eyes for a sign of what the other boy was thinking. “I wasn’t being your friend because he asked me to,” he added, biting his lip. “None one moment of that was fake, I swear.”

Prompto remained silent for a moment but a slow smile crawled across his face. “You sure, buddy?” he asked. “I know a lot about you that could be considered blackmail.” He shrugged. “Sounds like you were worried about blackmail to me.”

The sound of Gladio choking behind him had Noctis flushing a deep breath and even Nyx snickered behind Ignis, who raised a brow as he turned his head towards the sounds coming from both men.

“Clearly I have missed something,” Ignis mused before Noctis cleared his throat.

“No, you didn’t Iggy—”

“—You mean, he doesn’t know about the time I caught you and Gl—”

Noctis clamped a hand over Prompto’s mouth as Nyx laughed and Ignis’s eyebrow lifted once more. “Nope, nothing!”

“Mm,” the Adviser murmured before he rested his cane across his lap and interlaced his fingers. “Tell him the rest, Noct.”

Noctis glanced back at Ignis at the request before pulling his hand away from Prompto’s mouth with a nod. “You’re not really a servant,” he said, gauging his friend’s reaction before going any further, “but it was the only thing we could think of at the time to keep you close and safe without raising suspicion. Ignis really did need someone at his side.”

Prompto sat back, blinking rapidly as he thought about what he was being told. It was so much information so fast, he _knew_ he wasn’t absorbing this the way he was meant to. He was torn between laughing this away, and being angry that so much of his life was some sort of lie while at the same time knowing not a shred of this was meant to hurt him even though it had.

Literally.

“So, if I’m not a servant,” he spoke, lifting his gaze to Noctis and then Ignis. “What am I?”

“A savior,” Ignis whispered in reply, reaching with one hand to find Prompto, resting it upon the younger man’s thigh. “For pretenses, it is for the best that we keep up the act, but you are beneath no one. I wish I could have told you sooner, but you had to believe it was true to keep any suspicion away.”

“But, haven’t they already figured it out?” Prompo asked in concern with a frown. “…The man with the arm and the fat guy, someone told them about me.”

Ignis shook his head and the touch on Prompto’s leg turned into a soft squeeze. “They did not know,” he explained, “but they _were_ searching for you and had no idea you were what they wanted all along.” He inhaled deep and let it out. “I have to hope it was merely my reputation as Adviser that had them convinced I knew where to find you, and not something sinister that proves the cover has been blown.”

Prompto nodded to show he understood, a hand subconsciously going to his chest where the knife had struck him. He didn’t really want to know what he would face when his identify was revealed to those after him, but something told him he’d be better prepared.

“I doubt I need ask, but can we trust you, Nyx?”

“You don’t have to ask,” the Kingsglaive confirmed from the door, nodding and smiling at Prompto. “I had _no_ idea about any of this, and I’m looped in with the king. So, I think you guys are in the clear, I am on your side. Just let me know what I can do.”

They all glanced to Prompto, but the blond seemed lost in thought and when the silence only lingered, Ignis cleared his throat softly and carefully rose to his feet using his cane. “I know this was a lot to unload on you, Prompto,” he said. “Perhaps this is where we should pause and allow you to process things.”

Nodding, Prompto glanced up and realized they were all fixing to leave. “Do…do I have to stay here?” he asked, suddenly aware of how much he _didn’t_ want to be left alone after what he’d been through.

“I believe I can answer that,” Ignis replied with a soft smile and with a blush, Prompto nodded.

* * *

Something felt different when Prompto shut the door to Ignis’s room and it made him nervous. He turned, almost expecting things to go back to normal – that he’d take his place beside the door and Ignis would do as he pleased – but the reminder of the older man’s confession stopped the young blond in his tracks.

“Ignis?”

The Adviser paused and turned back to face Prompto. “Yes?”

“Is…is that normally how you confess your feelings to someone?” Prompto stammered out. “Blurt it out like that and then bring people into the room while changing the subject?”

Ignis flushed, something he’d been doing a lot of lately, clearing his throat as he took a step towards Prompto and held out his hand. “Goodness, no,” he breathed, finding the younger man’s arm to pull them closer together, gently.

“I must admit, I panicked,” he confessed, slipping his arm around Prompto as if he’d done it a million times. “That is not how I meant to tell you, but when I thought I had lost you, when those hours passed without you by my side, I feared I had lost my chance.” He let his cane drop to the floor, finding Prompto’s cheek with his hand now free and he leaned in. “My dreams tried to warn me, I wanted to tell you sooner, I nearly lost you.”

Pressed close to Ignis, Prompto stared up in surprise. A sensation he didn’t recognize was exploding in his chest, and his heart suddenly felt too big as it pounded inside him. He tingled all over, he felt hot. “You really love me?”

“I do,” Ignis answered with a nod. “I wish I had trusted myself to tell you sooner. I have no further intentions of keeping anything from you ever again. I love you.”

Maybe Prompto was being too forgiving, maybe he wasn’t processing everything he’d just learned about himself in the last hour, maybe things just hadn’t hit home yet. Maybe he knew there was something important Ignis had yet to tell him and he didn’t want to wait for that to be the thing that ruined all of this.

Maybe his reality was the dream he didn’t want to wake up from and Prompto wasn’t about to let that chance slip away.

Reaching up, Prompto gently took Ignis’s face in his hands, careful not to startle the other man with his touch as his fingers stroked the softness of Ignis’s skin. He thought to memorize every detail, but realized right there and then, that he already knew them all. He smiled, carefully reaching to lift the dark shades from the Adviser’s face, setting them on the nightstand behind him before he faced Ignis once more.

Prompto lifted himself onto his toes and pressed a kiss to Ignis’s lips, smiling when the older man leaned into it, but Prompto pulled back. He brushed his lips against Ignis’s cheek, then against one closed eye and then the other. He wasn’t expecting to feel Ignis’s lips on his neck and he gasped softly, tilting his head back as Ignis showered him with the same attention he’d just been given.

It was soft and intimate and Prompto decided he had time to ask questions and get more answers later. Future bombshells could wait. His hands left the softness of Ignis’s face, to slide down his neck to his shoulders and under the lapels of his Adviser’s robe, pushing it up and off the other man’s shoulders. Ignis easily shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor as his lips continued their gentle assault on Prompto’s neck.

Prompto may have known his face in every detail, but Ignis was not so fortunate. His lips trailed over Prompto’s pale skin, kissing as his fingers touched and explored. He pulled back when he found the collar of Prompto’s shirt, feeling his way down to the hem, prepared to take it off before he hesitated.

“May I?”

Stifling a laugh despite how touched he felt, Prompto smiled and nodded. “You may.”

As his shirt came off and those hands found his chest, Prompto arched into the touch before he could stop himself. Those hands felt like fire, warming him all over, and it filled the younger man with an urge he hadn’t anticipated. He wanted those hands _everywhere_ , and he wanted Ignis.

“Ignis?” he breathed as those hands slid up his chest and over his nipples.

“Yes, darling?” came the breathy question against his neck.

“I’m yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay on this one. For those still around giving this one a chance, thank you so much. Please comment, it's all I can ask for, so that I know people are reading and interested and liking this one. 
> 
> And yeah, there'll be smut next chapter ;)
> 
> \---
> 
> Please consider checking out my Ko-Fi: Ko-fi.com/dragonbornette. I'm in a bit of a financial bind right now, so any support right now would be very helpful. I know the page is still kind of empty and needs more, but I'll get there. Thanks again, everyone <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut.  
> sensual smut.  
> and a bombshell.

As Prompto settled atop Ignis’s lap, a knot of worry began to form in his stomach. Surely Ignis knew – he _had_ to – that Prompto had never done this before. But how could Prompto say something without ruining the mood? Would admitting that even ruin things? Or would it give them the opportunity to be even more intimate?

Violet eyes lifted to take in the sight of Ignis, shirtless, resting back against the headboard of his bed, before Prompto leaned in to press a kiss to the hollow of the Adviser’s neck. “Ignis…?” he braved to whisper.

“Yes, darling?”

The term of endearment filled Prompto with a warmth he hoped to never lose, and he nuzzled his face against Ignis’s warm skin before sighing and deciding to take the risk. “…I’ve never done this before.”

The hands that had found their way to Prompto’s back, stroking, stilled at the confession. “Do you wish to stop?” came the soft inquiry.

Pulling back abruptly, Prompto shook his head with a frown before remembering himself. “No!” he exclaimed softly, gently taking Ignis’s face into his hands. “I…just, um…”

A slow smile settled across Ignis’s lips in realization as he reached to cover the hands on his face with his own. “We will do this together, mm?”

Prompto nodded but before he could voice his agreement, Ignis reached for him, found his face, and pulled him into a reassuring kiss. He melted into it, pressing closer and as it deepened. A part of him wanted to pull back and protest – it’s their first time! – but the longer the kiss lingered, the more Prompto realized… Even Noctis didn’t know him the way Prompto knew Ignis; and although he and Ignis maintained their servant/master relationship throughout the years, Prompto couldn’t even count the things he’d told Ignis.

…Not to mention the fact that Ignis literally knew him as an infant, and the only gap in his knowledge of Prompto, were the years Prompto spent in foster care.

They’d been dancing around each other for years and Prompto either never knew, or refused to believe it. Maybe both. His only regret now was that he hadn’t paid more attention to what Gladio and Noctis had been doing, so at least he’d have some reference points.

Turning his attention back to the situation at hand, Prompto braved to press closer to Ignis, touching his chest to the other man’s and feeling the way his skin practically exploded with goosebumps. He failed to hold back a whimper as Ignis’s arms enclosed around him once again, sliding down his back and back up soothingly.

Feeling those hands as they slid down to his waistband and then around to the front of his pants, Prompto pulled back from the kiss, panting as he glanced down and watched those fingers undress him. It bothered him somewhat, to know that Ignis couldn’t see, that undressing him felt more like a formality than anything.

But maybe that was unfair to Ignis, to assume something like that. So Prompto pushed those thoughts from his head and bit his lip as deft fingers undid his belt and button and slipped inside. They barely brushed against his arousal, but it was enough to cause him to gasp and shiver, but not miss the smile that curved Ignis’s lips.

Prompto lifted onto his knees as Ignis’s encouraging, letting the other man push his pants down out of the way before he did the rest by taking them off and dropping them to the floor. Naked atop the Adviser, Prompto blushed – even though Ignis couldn’t see him, it was still intimate and more than he’d ever done before. He reached for Ignis’s hands and brought them to his hips, closing his eyes as he concentrated on the way those hands felt roaming his bare skin.

They caressed his hips where he’d placed them before sliding around to his back and down to his ass and, with a gentle squeeze, Ignis pulled him forward. Prompto barely caught himself in top at the sudden tug, hands bracing himself on the headboard on either side of Ignis’s head. His lips hovered barely inches away from the other man’s and with a sudden surge of desire and need, Prompto kissed Ignis again.

As tongues met and heads tilted, Prompto sat back into those hands still gripping him as his own slid down Ignis’s chest, ready to return the favor at his belt. He was proud that he managed to undo the other man’s belt and pants without looking, but whether it was instinct or just plain horniness, Prompto slid his hand inside and wrapped his hand around the hardened flesh within.

A sound Prompto had never heard before escaped Ignis’s lips into the kiss at the touch: a growl, no, a moan? Prompto didn’t know, but it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard from that mouth. He managed one more stroke to hear it again, which he did, before he let go to help the Adviser out of his pants. He realized, sadly, that he’d seen Ignis naked before. Who else helped him with his baths?

Granted, Prompto always did his hardest _not_ to look – seriously. It felt wrong to look, like he was breaking some unspoken form of trust between them. But he’d accidentally caught glimpses before.

Now, being able to take in the sight of Ignis naked was truly like viewing a work of art. Ignis kept himself in shape, took good care of himself, and that proud, thick, slightly-curved erection leaning against that toned stomach was more than enough for Prompto’s mouth to water.

Just as he wrapped his hand around that pulsing length once again, Ignis spoke. “Darling,” his voice had dropped lower, husky in a way that made Prompto bite back another whimper-like noise. “Reach into the nightstand. There’s a blue bottle we’ll need.”

As much as he wanted to keep touching Ignis, Prompto turned away to do as the other man had asked. He carefully leaned over to open the drawer and find the bottle, blushing when he realized what he was getting. He gently shut the drawer and sat back in Ignis’s lap, but when he didn’t say anything, Ignis’s hands found his.

“Are you alright?”

Prompto looked up at the question, blinking in surprise before he realized how quiet he’d been. He quickly cleared his throat and smiled a little. “Yeah, I-I’m fine,” he stammered out, biting his lip. “Just a little nervous.”

“Perfectly natural,” Ignis assured in reply, squeezing Prompto’s hands before taking the bottle from him. “We _will_ do this together, and if we need to stop, we will simply stop.”

“…Even if it leaves you in a, um, pinch?”

Ignis’s smile widened ever so slightly. “I believe I can take matters into my own hands,” he quipped. “In a manner of speaking.”

Prompto’s blush returned at those words, imagining the sight of Ignis touching himself before remembering that what they’re about to do would be even better than imagining that. By the time he shook the thought away, Ignis had already coated his fingers in the slick contents of the bottle, dripping a little but he didn’t seem to mind.

Ignis sensed Prompto’s nerves, sharing soft kisses with the younger man while he felt with his dry hand along the other’s backside. Once he reached Prompto’s soft, pert globes, he spread them gently and carefully found his destination with slicked fingers. When the former servant gasped and arched against him, surprised by the cool intrusion, Ignis whispered softly, soothingly, to quiet him.

“Relax,” he breathed, dusting his lips along Prompto’s jaw, finding his way to his ear and carefully nibbling.

Prompto tried his best to listen, but he was anxious he’d somehow ruin their first time despite the Adviser’s guidance. That finger pressing inside of him didn’t feel _anything_ like he’d imagined and he wasn’t sure if he could do this. He knew he was too tense, knew that it would only make things worse, and he felt himself starting to soften, the fire…starting to die.

As if aware, Ignis started to hum in his ear and Prompto stilled, body tingling in a way he didn’t understand at first. But…it felt… His eyes slid shut and he lost himself in that voice, body unclenching as that finger slid deeper, arching against Ignis with a renewed need.

One finger became two, and Ignis kept humming. Every part of Prompto’s body yearned and ached, but it felt so good by the time Ignis stopped, Prompto nearly missed the grunt of pain that followed. Before he had a chance to come to his senses and ask what was wrong, the fingers inside of him curled and he saw stars.

Ignis’s head dropped against Prompto’s shoulder, panting from the exertion but he couldn’t let Prompto see. He worked his fingers in and out of that tight warmth, driven by the need to pleasure Prompto and get him ready. By the time he slipped the third in, Prompto was a whimpering mess against him.

He pressed his fingers once…twice, and then a third time in against that bundle of nerves, driving Prompto to the brink, listening to the sounds spilling from those lips, before he finally pulled his fingers free. Ignis had calmed himself down by now, and kissed his way back up to Prompto’s mouth, nuzzling him.

“Would you like to do the honors?”

Prompto had slumped against the Adviser, feeling spent even though he hadn’t even _come_ yet, but he pulled back at the question, blinking until he realized what Ignis had meant. “S-sure,” he breathed, reaching for the abandoned blue bottle beside them and squeezing some into his hands. He glanced down at Ignis’s length, ignored between them, but prominent and still beautiful, and slid his hand down the shaft.

Ignis let out a heavy breath at the touch, hips jerking slightly into it before he could stop himself. The feeling of Prompto’s hand stroking him and preparing him felt even better now that it was happening, and before he knew it, the hand on his length had sped up and so had his own hips. His breath grew heavy and his hand found Prompto’s with startling accuracy as he gasped and shuddered.

“C-careful,” he warned, surprised at the struggle in his own voice. “Or we might cause something premature.”

Prompto let out a nervous laugh but nodded. “Sorry,” he whispered, but Ignis shook his head.

“No apologies,” he replied with a kiss to whatever part of Prompto his lips were nearest. “I rather enjoyed it.”

Together, they lifted Prompto onto his knees and guided Ignis’s slick length to his entrance. Ignis tilted his head up towards the younger man as hands gripped his shoulders in preparation, and slowly, Prompto lowered himself back onto Ignis.

The breath was stolen from Ignis’s lungs as he sank up into that tight warmth inch by inch. He felt Prompto’s legs quivering around him from the effort of taking things slow, but the younger man didn’t stop until he’d sat down fully. Their breaths echoed each other as Prompto adjusted to the feeling and Ignis tried not to move, but finally, Prompto lifted himself back up and sat back down, a moan escaping his lips.

Drawing his legs up, giving Prompto something to rest back against, Ignis slid his hands along Prompto’s legs and up to his hips, thrusting up to meet his lover when the other man dropped back down. This time, they moaned together.

Sure, it hurt a little, but with each thrust and undulation of his hips, it lessened until it didn’t even bother Prompto anymore. He was on fire, every inch of him alive as he moved with Ignis; head thrown back as moan after moan and whimper came tumbling out of him. Hid fingers dug into the Adviser’s shoulders as each thrust went deeper inside of him until that spot inside of him was being relentlessly stimulated.

Every sense was on overload, and although it was something he tried not to think about, Ignis was truly remorseful, in the midst of beautiful love-making, that his sight had been stolen. Prompto felt incredible around him, against him – he sounded even better, his voice like a song, every whimper a melody.

Until Ignis blinked and the light – the only thing he could detect – became clearer in his eyes. He blinked again, confused, hips stuttering as his rhythm was broken. He tried to keep focus, but each blink brought more light, and shapes and with a sudden gasp, Ignis could _see_. Just as he thrust in, Prompto arched his back with a cry of pleasure that reverberated throughout the room and everything came into focus.

“P-prompto…” Ignis gasped out, and something in his tone brought Prompto back to Eos.

Tilting his head down to look, Prompto’s stunned to find those eyes, sightless and unfocused, were now piercing and looking _right_ at him. His eyes narrowed in pleasured confusion, still moving with Ignis until the realization finally hit him and he stopped.

“…I-Ignis?”

Ignis didn’t respond at first, taking in every detail of Prompto that he could see, every freckle, the color of his eyes. Sure, he had a guilty secret of seeing Prompto before, using his voice, but never this clear. He could see _everything_.

But instead of saying something, Ignis reached to take that beautiful face in his hands once more and brought Prompto’s forehead against his own. Gazes locked, Ignis thrust up deep as Prompto’s hands covered his own, unquestioningly. A well-aimed thrust had violet eyes fluttering, but Prompto did his hardest to keep looking.

Their movements became faster, frantic, beyond pleasured, but they moved in sync, and when Ignis’s hips shifted and struck that spot with Prompto over and over and over, Prompto was forced to throw his head back. He cried out, another cry that made the room tremble, that Ignis felt in his core, as he came hard, body shaking as he spilled between them more than either of them probably expected.

And Ignis watched every second. He memorized the way Prompto looked in the throes of his orgasm, before his eyes dropped down to watch the way the younger man had decorated their bodies. The tight clenching around his aching length was the last measure Ignis needed to follow, and his hips stuttered again as he chased his orgasm out, desperate to both pleasure his lover and finally come.

When those violet eyes finally found him again, hazed from pleasure, it’s still all that Ignis needs to be pushed over the edge. One last thrust in and a growl escaped his lips as he filled Prompto with his release, hips languidly rocking up into the moaning younger man until he’s completely spent.

Together, they sagged back against the bed, breaths filling the silence that followed until Prompto shook himself from the afterglow and straightened atop Ignis. His eyes, wide, find the other man, anxious to see if he’d imagined what had happened but Ignis’s eyes, although heavily lidded for the same reasons as Prompto, were still bright and focused on him.

“I-Ignis?” he breathed, still conscious of the other man inside of him even if he was momentarily distracted by the bombshell of the other man’s sight mysteriously restored. “H-how?”

Tears filled the emeralds staring up at Prompto before Ignis could help himself. “You,” he managed to whisper. “…Did you not notice your voice during? I could feel it…”

Prompto blinked rapidly in confusion, opening his mouth as he shook his head, still in denial. “B-but, I’ve never… I mean…” he stammered.

“For the Dreamweavers who were never properly educated,” Ignis started to explain, “strong emotions – pleasure, fear – were triggers for their powers. Those who were taught, learned to control themselves, even in the midst of an emotional bout.”

And then suddenly, Prompto remembered. When he’d jumped in front of Nyx and shouted, he’d _felt_ it, and it only occurred to him _now_ what he had done.

He’d saved his own life with his voice.

“…Is it permanent?” Prompto whispered, reaching up to touch Ignis’s face where the faint purple scar still remained.

“Even should it not, I am forever grateful I was able to see you,” Ignis answered, leaning in to press his lips to Prompto’s as a tear finally escaped and dripped down his cheek. “Forever grateful for this opportunity.”

* * *

After retreating to the washroom to clean up, Ignis and Prompto return to the bed, curled beneath the covers as Ignis’s eyes continue to inspect and memorize every inch of the blond at his side. And Prompto was content to let him – something about the way those eyes beheld him as if he were everything filled him with love.

The memorization was interspersed with soft, sometimes deep kisses, and eventually Ignis shifted to climb over Prompto for more. He didn’t know if his sight was back for good, but he couldn’t even begin to express what it meant to have it back.

But amidst their kisses and touches, a thought occurred to Prompto and he broke away from their kiss to look up at Ignis, concerned. “During,” he said softly, “…you were humming. I could feel that, but you…” He frowned. “…You sounded hurt when you stopped.”

And for the first time since knowing Ignis, Prompto saw those eyes belie the truth. “It’s nothing,” came the lie.

Immediately, Prompto tensed but he pushed the anger away. “You said you wouldn’t keep anything from me anymore,” he reminded quietly, staring up at Ignis until those eyes finally found him again. “Tell me the truth, please.”

The answer to Prompto’s inquiry was truly the only thing Ignis had planned _not_ to tell him. He’d planned on it never coming up, never letting it show, but it was the only thing to make Prompto relax and it cost him.

“…I…” Ignis struggled and he frowned at himself. “…I’m afraid I don’t quite know how to say this, Prompto.”

And Prompto immediately felt himself curling up inside. There was only one thing coming, one bombshell that he _had_ to go looking for.

“…I am dying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh. so. i REALLY hope this wasn't long-winded but I swear. a planned half-chapter of smut turned into an ENTIRE THING. so um. i hope you enjoyed it. heh D:
> 
> (also please consider donating a ko-fi, link below!)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ignis and prompto talk.  
> noct and gladio visit.  
> and regis shows up.

Prompto went through a flurry of emotions in a matter of seconds. Anger, terror, helplessness – before a renewed sense of determination grew inside of him and he sat up, nearly head-butting Ignis in the process. The Adviser sat back, confused, eyes searching Prompto’s for some sort of explanation, but Prompto only stared as he worked everything out in his head.

“I need you to tell me everything.”

Ignis blinked rapidly in response, shaking his head as his confusion only grew. “…I-I beg your pardon?”

“I need you to tell me everything,” Prompto repeated. “So I can figure out how to fix this.”

Heart aching at those words, Ignis’s head dropped slightly as he shook it again. “Prompto,” he tried to say. “I’m afraid this is something beyond you.”

Prompto’s eyebrows lifted. “I’m sorry, weren’t you telling me earlier that I’m supposed to be some kind of savior?” he asked, unable to help a soft laugh of exasperation – he still couldn’t bring himself to believe it, despite having healed Ignis’s vision. “Besides, how do you know you’re _dying_? My entire life has practically been devoted to you. How could I _not_ know that something was wrong with you?”

Ignis lifted his head as Prompto spoke, a soft smile on his lips though it turned sad. “Because it’s magical,” he explained, “which is clearly something I went through great lengths to hide from you.”

“Something magical is killing you?” Prompto asked in confusion. “How does that work?”

Ignis’s brow furrowed as he thought of a way to explain things to Prompto without going into great lengths. They didn’t have time for a history of magic. “Dreamweavers are…a special blend of magic,” he said. “In a sense, it makes us who we are. One could be well physically, but ill magically. And should something of that latter nature go untreated, it can kill. Without magic, we are nothing.”

“Then, why can’t you treat it?” Prompto countered. “How do you know you’re dying?”

“Think, darling,” Ignis replied softly, meeting the younger man’s worried eyes. “Who could I go to? Without exposing myself? It’s one thing to have magic, it is entirely another to be a Dreamweaver.” He lifted a hand to cup Prompto’s cheek, stroking softly with his thumb. “I used my magic to help people – all these years, it was my secret. I also used it to see you, I’m afraid I was being selfish but…” He smiled a little, sad again as he lowered his gaze in what looked like shame. “One day, I sang, and I felt as if I were being torn apart. It has been that way ever since and has only grown worse with time.”

“Then, stop!” Prompto exclaimed, frightened tears filling his eyes before he closed his eyes and fought to calm down. “Don’t use your magic, let me fix this.”

“I cannot let you do that,” the Adviser quickly retorted with a firm shake of his head. “You must let things happen as they will with me. Your life is worth far more than mine. Without you, none of us have a chance. Don’t risk yourself for my sake.”

Prompto frowned. “Then, what kind of prophecy chosen one am I?” he asked. “If I can’t save one life, how am I supposed to save an entire group of people, or whatever it is I’m supposed to do? I healed your vision, Ignis. Even if it’s temporary, I did it once and I can do it again, I feel fine. _I_ can do something about this, and if I can’t, then I’m clearly not the one meant to save us. You have to let me try.”

Ignis pursed his lips but failed to come up with anything to counter Prompto’s insistence. Perhaps he was being selfish – of course he didn’t want to die – but he knew nothing about what was wrong with him. What if it could hurt Prompto? What if it were something the prophecy didn’t mention, something unforeseen? What if Ignis were the catalyst that destroyed everything they’d spent time and effort preparing Prompto for?

But Prompto trusted him, so it was only fair that he trust in Prompto.

“Alright,” the Adviser finally conceded with a soft nod, “but not now. Your powers, your strength, is still untrained. What happened tonight was nothing short of a miracle, darling. We cannot risk you trying to cure what’s killing me based on that luck alone.”

Prompto tried to protest, but before Ignis could stop him he seemed to consider those words and he nodded. “Okay,” he conceded. “That’s fair.”

Still, Ignis couldn’t help feeling like something wasn’t right, something none of them had stopped to give more time to consider. So much had happened over the past couple of days it was hard to pinpoint – it could literally have been anything.

For now, he brought Prompto into a kiss as they lowered themselves back onto the bed and put off sleep for a little while longer to do _other_ things.

* * *

A knock on the door the following morning startled Prompto from an otherwise perfect slumber. He was alarmed for _several_ reasons – where was he? Whose bed was this? _Why was he sleeping_? Years of training and accustoming himself to power naps and…

Oh.

The warm body pressed up against him from behind quickly brought things back for Prompto, but the second knock sounding on the door reminded him of what had woken him up and, this time, it woke Ignis.

Before either of them could wrap their minds around what to do, the door cracked open and Noctis poked his head in, concerned. “Ignis?”

“Over here, Noct,” came the sleepy reply.

The prince turned his head towards the bed and his face immediately split into a grin at the sight. “Ohhhh… I see.”

“What?” asked a deep voice from behind – Gladio.

“See for yourself,” Noctis said, still grinning as he stepped inside and gestured to the bed where Prompto was slowly sinking beneath the covers until only his messy tuft of hair showed.

Stepping in, Gladio let out a laugh as he shut the door behind him. “About time, Iggy’s been blue-ballin’ for _ever_.”

When Gladio didn’t get the retort he expected from the Adviser, his gaze shifted to find the other man’s gaze on Noctis, eyes shining behind a film of tears that had yet to fall. It was another minute before both he and the prince realized that Ignis could _see_.

When the silence lingered, Prompto poked his head from under the covers and looked between them, aware of why no one was talking, but unsure if he should speak.

“…Iggy, what the… _fuck_ …”

The question startled Noctis out of his shock as he glared up at Gladio but immediately looked back at Ignis, daring a step forward. “…R-really?”

Stretching out one hand towards the prince, Ignis managed a silent nod as Noctis hurried forward onto the bed, over Prompto, and into Ignis’s embrace. He’d met Noctis after he’d been blinded and had never used his voice to see the prince – to see both the prince and Gladio for the first time was more impactful than he’d anticipated.

It was heartbreakingly beautiful.

Holding the prince against him, Ignis looked up at Gladio and gestured for the other man to come over while Prompto still watched from beneath the covers, afraid to interrupt. He watched as Ignis let go of Noctis to touch Gladio’s arm, fascinated by the tattoo – and when Prompto glanced up, Gladio was actually _blushing_.

“How?” Noctis asked with a sniffle, pulling back from Ignis as the Adviser’s emerald gaze fell to the blond still hiding under his covers.

“Hey guys,” Prompto said with a tiny wave before he sat up, clutching the covers to his chest.

Without warning, Noctis threw himself against the blond, holding him tightly as he babbled a bunch of whispered ‘thank you’s mixed with soft sniffles.

“He learned to use his magic that fast?” Gladio questioned dubiously, crossing his arms and lifting an eyebrow.

Ignis gave him a sharp glance, but failed to hide a blush that only served to make Gladio’s eyebrow lift further. “Not exactly,” he corrected with a soft clearing of his throat. “Please, allow Prompto and I the courtesy of dressing? Afterwards, we can have breakfast if you haven’t already eaten.”

“I’ll have it brought here!” Noctis offered, pecking Prompto’s cheek with a grateful kiss before he hopped off the bed and grabbed Gladio by the wrist. “Come on, big guy.”

As the bodyguard was dragged out the door, Prompto looked to Ignis as they were left alone once more. The Adviser let out a huff before he smiled a little and looked to the blond at his side. “I always pictured what it would be like to see them,” he admitted, “but that is not how it went in my head.”

Prompto laughed harder than he probably should have, but those words eased his nerves. It still felt so strange, to be treated like a friend – a lover, even - and not a servant, especially by the prince. But it was even more than that, Ignis had never _seen_ them before and Prompto almost felt wrong being there when it happened.

Maybe that was just his insecurity talking. He pushed it away and leaned in to kiss the other man, melting when it deepened. “They seemed happy,” he assured when they pulled apart, lifting his gaze to meet those eyes – those eyes that could _see_.

“I know, darling,” Ignis whispered, holding Prompto close, “but surely you realize this must remain a secret? A miraculous restoration of my eyesight paints a rather large target on us.”

That explained what felt wrong about that moment, something Prompto had conveniently forgotten, something that could complicate things should the wrong person find out. A wave of frustration threatened to spill out before Prompto swallowed it back down.

“I’m sorry,” he ended up saying, which apparently was the wrong thing when he saw the frown appear on Ignis’s face.

“Prompto, hush,” the Adviser answered, reaching to take that freckled face in his hands. “Please don’t mistake what I said for anything regarding my feelings about what you did. It was a beautiful, accidental miracle. I only wish we could celebrate it the way it deserves, but that time will come. I promise.”

The two spent more time than intended kissing before peeling themselves from the bed. Prompto dressed but left to get to his room and into another change of clothes after washing up, hurrying so the time spent apart from Ignis was short.

By the time he returned to Ignis’s room, Noctis and Gladio had arrived with breakfast as Ignis sat waiting for them at his table on the far end of his room. He wore his glasses, but they all understood why – should they be interrupted during breakfast, Ignis had to keep up appearances.

Prompto was quick to try and take the food from Noctis so he could set the table and serve them, but the prince stubbornly refused and insisted the blond sit down and be served for once. Gladio laughed and helped before they all sat down and ate.

Ignis explained Prompto’s miracle as the result of heightened emotions, giving the same explanation he’d given Prompto regarding untrained Dreamweavers being prone to such incidents. With time and training, what had happened last night could become a regular thing, something that would serve to give Prompto whatever it was he needed to bring the prophecy to life.

Something no one had yet explained to him – what exactly _was_ he supposed to do?

By the time they were finishing up eating, Prompto had forgotten about the prophecy. He was focused now on the way they were acting, like a group of friends reuniting after time spent apart. He didn’t feel like the outcast he’d felt like his whole life, even if he and Noctis had been friends for years, nothing could breach the servant-royalty gap. Ignis had always been a master. Gladio had just been a friend of a friend.

Whether they had been playing parts or truly keeping their distance, it didn’t matter now, they were laughing and joking and Prompto was seeing a side of Ignis he hadn’t known existed. And a part of him hated that these parts they’d had to play had kept this from him.

And then he was thinking about the prophecy again, wondering if it was truly so important that they’d gone through all these lengths to deceive and protect him.

Before anyone could comment on Prompto’s silence, a knock at the door sounded. Immediately, Prompto was on his feet and hurrying to the door, giving one last worried look at Ignis before he opened it.

The last person he expected to see stood on the other side. Flanked by his two bodyguards, Nyx and Cor, stood King Regis himself in all his black and gold glory. Prompto forgot himself and gaped up at the taller man – he’d always been a sucker for that stylish royal tunic, but if Noctis aged anything like his dad, he’d be a lucky man.

Regis was as good-looking as men his age got, and Prompto was still staring before the king lifted an eyebrow and cleared his throat softly.

“O-oh, Your Majesty, please,” Prompto babbled, stepping back to allow the other man in with his entourage in tow.

Cane in hand, the king limped slowly into the room while Nyx and Cor remained by the door with Prompto. Thinking Regis was there to see Ignis, the last thing Prompto expected was for the silver-haired man to turn and face him, eyebrow lifted once more.

“Dad?” Noctis was asking, rising to his feet in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I am here to see young Prompto,” Regis answered, gaze shifting from his son back to the blond before gesturing for the servant to join them. “I would have visited sooner, but I wanted to allow some time to heal from the wounds I hear you endured.”

Prompto blushed, touching his chest where the knife had struck him and glancing at Nyx. How did they explain the wound no longer being there?

They couldn’t.

“False alarm, I’m afraid,” Ignis spoke up from the table, rising unsteadily to his feet far more convincingly than Prompto would have expected. He reached for his cane, which Noctis was quick to supply. “He came to with the help of some potions.”

Regis turned to Prompto once more as the blond managed a slight nod. “Y-yeah, guess in between being kidnapped and having a knife thrown at me, I passed out. I’m okay though, thanks to Nyx.”

To their shock, Regis laughed and turned to face Prompto. “My dear boy, I am not here to interrogate you,” he explained, sensing the nerves. “Only to offer my apologies that this happened in the first place. Under my roof, my reign. Insomnia failed you.” Something akin to a sneer flickered across his face but it vanished almost as quickly as it arrived and Prompto wasn’t sure he had seen right. “Though, it warms my heart to see you are cared for more than I realized. It was wrong of me to view you as a servant and not their friend.”

Prompto didn’t know what to say, and neither did anyone else, apparently. Even Ignis seemed at a loss for words.

Looking around at the silence that followed, Regis lifted an eyebrow. “My apologies, did I say something wrong?”

“N-not at all,” Prompto quickly assured. “It’s just…you don’t get an apology from the king every day.”

Regis smiled and chuckled softly before he gripped his cane and made his way back to the door, which Nyx was quick to open for him. “Understandable, dear Prompto,” he said with another soft chuckle. “I am certain I’ll be seeing more of you soon, mm?”

Prompto was at another loss for words, how could he answer that? What did that even mean? He didn’t get a chance to respond, though, Regis glanced around the room one last time before stepping out.

Nyx was quick to follow the king out the door, but Cor lingered as he looked from Ignis to Prompto, meeting his gaze. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips before he was out the door and shutting it behind him.

Prompto recalled Ignis telling him that it was Cor who had rescued him as an infant, and something about that smile filled him with a warmth. He’d never said more than two words to the other man and even still, had always avoided him because he had a stare like death. But thinking about it, Prompto realized those eyes had never looked at him unkindly. He almost began to regret not taking the time to get to know the other man before he dismissed the thought just as quickly.

There had never been an instance where he _could_ have. Nyx was the only one Regis sent on errands around the Citadel, so it was only natural that they’d formed a friendship. Cor…didn’t exactly seem like the errand type.

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Prompto returned to the table where everyone sat down except for Noctis. The young prince stared at the door for what seemed like forever until Gladio reached to tug at his sleeve.

“Noct?”

A silence followed before Noctis seemed to realize Gladio had touched him. “…T-that wasn’t my dad.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ignis asked from the other end of the table.

Noctis turned to face his friends, distress on his face as he looked at each of them. "You didn't notice?" he asked, looking to Gladio and Prompto. “…He was limping on the wrong leg.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I take so long to update this one. but thank you to my loyal but few readers, and to my new readers as well. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading <3 Please leave comments and let me know what you think, this fic gets little love for being different, so every comment kudos on this one means the world. Share it with your friends, something, anything <3 It means a lot.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they come up with a plan, kind of.  
> prompto gets some training.  
> and a familiar face returns.
> 
> (sorry if the format is weird on this one, word was being a jerk)

“He’s right…”

Ignis’s cane dropped to the floor, clattering as he stood abruptly from the table and took off his glasses. He wasn’t prone to overreacting, often one to keep his cool, but something in the prince’s tone bothered him in a way that told him Noctis wasn’t mistaken, or making this up.

Instantly, the Adviser’s mind raced, calculating everything that had happened recently and his eyes found Prompto’s watching him as a realization dawned on him. His gaze shifted to the prince as he approached the younger man and gently turned him around.

“Do not worry, Noct,” he breathed, searching the prince’s eyes and hoping the fear in them would not be one of the last emotions he saw in them.

“How can you say that?” came the expected exclamation. “You’ve never seen him! What if he’s—”

“—We would already know if he were dead,” Ignis reminded gently. “The magic of the Crystal still breathes and protects us. Imposter or no, he cannot fake that.”

“How can you be certain Noct ain’t overreactin’?” Gladio asked, not meeting the angry look the prince gave him. He hated to ask the question, but it needed to be asked.

“Prompto’s abduction,” Ignis replied simply.

“But, Ignis, I thought you said they didn’t know about me?” Prompto protested in confusion.

Ignis nodded. “And that is still true,” he answered, “but recall the events of that day: I was randomly summoned to an audience with His Majesty, one he insisted that I come alone to. _Our_ King Regis, although excluded from the knowledge of what you are, understood your importance to me and had no issue with your presence during any meetings with him. And it just so happens that on this one occasion, you happen to be abducted? Despite all our security, they somehow managed to slip out of the Citadel undetected?” A scoff escaped his lips. “Not a coincidence.”

An uncomfortable silence followed his explanation, angry tears filling Noctis’s eyes. “But what about my father?” he demanded, looking from Ignis to Gladio. “What do we do?”

“Stay calm, Noctis,” Ignis insisted, squeezing the younger man’s shoulder softly in reassurance. “There is no way that you are the only one to notice the discrepancy in our imposter. Let us summon Nyx or Cor here and see what they have to say.” He waited for Noctis to nod in agreement and glanced to Gladio in silent request for the man to use his earpiece to do just that. “We must be careful, all of us. This imposter slipped in far too easily. I expect all of us are being watched, so we must think through all of our actions. We cannot give anything away.”

Prompto had walked over to Noctis while Ignis spoke, taking his friend’s hand in concern. “I’m sorry, Noct,” he said softly, biting his lip when the other man looked at him.

“What? Why?”

“…I can’t help feeling like this is my fault,” the servant-turned-savior mumbled, gaze dropping to the floor. “If I weren’t this…whatever I am, this guy wouldn’t have gone after your dad.”

“Prompto…” Noctis turned from Ignis to wrap his arms around the blond, hugging him tightly. “This isn’t your fault.”

They held each other for a moment before Gladio rejoined them, nodding. “Cor’s on his way,” he announced as Ignis nodded and bent down to pick up his cane.

“You’re not gonna tell him?” Prompto asked as the Adviser sat back down and put his sunglasses back on.

“Not until we know for certain Cor hasn’t also been compromised,” Ignis explained softly. “The same goes for Nyx.”

“Of course we can trust Nyx!” Prompto exclaimed with a frown. “He saved my life!”

Ignis sighed, nodding. “And what if an imposter has taken his place since then?” he questioned. “Going forward, perhaps we should come up with a phrase to assure each other of our identities?”

“A secret code?” Gladio asked, unable to help the sarcasm in his tone.

“Do you have a better idea?” Ignis retorted quietly, waiting a moment as he glared daggers up at the bodyguard. “As I thought.” He turned to the prince. “Any suggestions, Noct?”

“Walk tall,” came the almost immediate response, earning a smile from Ignis. “…It’s something my dad always says, so it won’t…it won’t seem out of place if someone overhears us saying it to each other...”

“An excellent choice,” Ignis agreed with a nod, glancing to the others to make sure the decision was mutual. Both Gladio and Prompto nodded in agreement just as a knock sounded at the door.

Prompto hurried to answer it, peeking through the crack to make sure it was Cor before he allowed the other man entry. He had to keep up the pretense of being a servant, until they knew it was okay to talk to the Commander of the Crownsguard, but being close to the man after learning about his impact on Prompto’s life made the young blond anxious to talk to him, or do _something_ to let Cor know he knew.

“You needed me, Highness?” Cor asked, stoic as always as he stood before the prince.

“What happened to my father, Cor?” Noctis was quick to demand. “You can’t tell me…” His voice failed him for a moment, and he clenched his fists in frustration. “That wasn’t him!”

To their surprise, Cor sighed and closed his eyes, startling all of them. Cor wasn’t a man prone to expression or emotion in his duties, and at first, it alarmed them until Cor looked back at the prince and Prompto recognized the expression for what it was – regret.

“Forgive me, Highness,” Cor apologized, a hand on his chest as he bowed. “We failed your father. Under our watch, something or someone took his place and we still are trying to understand what or who, and how.”

“How long ago?” Ignis asked from the table, keeping his guise up.

Cor looked to him. “A few days,” he answered. “His limp was the most immediate clue, but his demeanor, although convincing, has been off and we knew. Clarus has been ripping the kingdom apart, quietly, searching for some trace of King Regis but so far nothing. We thought it best to keep up the pretense we were unaware, until we could learn of His Majesty’s location. We feared acting on this imposter too soon may put him jeopardy.”

“Damn it.” Ignis beat his fist on the table and hung his head and the guilt Prompto felt only increased as he looked around the room.

“What do we do?” he finally braved to ask, surprising Cor as the Marshal turned to look at him.

“There isn’t much we _can_ do,” Cor admitted, face back to its expressionless default setting, but Prompto could _swear_ there was emotion in those eyes when they looked at him. “Without giving ourselves away, we must let this imposter do as he pleases, so that we can learn his motives and hopefully locate the king.”

The silence that followed was unsatisfying, as nothing Cor said really assured Noctis of anything other than that Cor was still Cor, and that they _were_ trying to find his father.

“I apologize for not telling you, Noctis,” Cor spoke up, taking a step towards the prince and placing his hand on the prince’s shoulder. “There was no easy way to, and our shame only made it that much harder.”

“It’s not your fault,” Noctis whispered, a tear falling down his cheek before he could wipe it away. “But what do we do?”

The repeated question made Cor purse his lips, but only because he had no real answer. He turned his head to look at Prompto and nodded towards the young blond. “It’s your time to shine, boy,” he said. “I think this imposter is here for you, if I had to guess.”

Taking off his glasses, Ignis rose from the table and looked to Cor with a soft smile. “I agree with the Marshal,” he announced, meeting that surprised but steely gaze.

“Hm,” Cor said, his eyes the only thing giving his surprise away before it was hidden back behind the mask of unreadability. “I see he’s already gotten started.” He gave Noctis’s shoulder one last squeeze of assurance before he turned to go.

“Wait!” Noctis exclaimed, waiting for Cor to look back at him before he spoke again. “So that we know it’s you in the future, greet us with ‘walk tall’, okay?”

A soft smile fleeted across Cor’s face as he nodded and continued towards Prompto by the door, stopping before the blond but no words came out. As much as this probably wasn’t the time or place, Cor had a feeling that he wouldn’t get another chance. Things were likely to get hairy after this, and behind closed doors was probably the only time he was going to be able to say anything.

But before he could, a smile split Prompto’s face as he closed the distance between them and hugged Cor tightly, stunning everyone. “Thank you,” the younger man whispered. “Ignis told me what you did.”

Cor glanced at Ignis but looked back down at Prompto and although it wasn’t in his nature, his arms slowly returned the embrace. “You’ve grown into a fine young man, Prompto,” he said before stepped back, nodded to the others, and disappeared through the door.

Left alone in silence, Gladio came up beside the prince and put an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Noct,” he encouraged softly. “Let’s go do somethin’ to get your mind off this.”

Noctis looked up in protest but Gladio’s insistent stare shot him down, in a kind way.

“You know Nyx and Cor are doin’ what they can and if we think of somethin’ that can help, we’ll tell them, alright?” He sighed and offered a smile. “Besides, we can’t let anyone know we know your dad’s missin’. How about the arcade?”

Nodding, Noctis let himself be led to the door, stopping when they reached Prompto and hugging the blond one last time. “It’s not your fault,” he assured, feeling Prompto’s hold tighten around him before they pulled apart.

“I’m gonna get this guy, Noct,” Prompto promised in reply, nodding to the prince before Gladio guided him out of the room, the door shutting behind them.

“Well then,” Ignis said from the table. “I suppose your training starts today.”

* * *

After cleaning up their breakfast and putting it on a cart out in the hall for someone to collect later, Prompto and Ignis locked the door for safety’s sake, and retreated into the bathroom for privacy. At first, Prompto assumed it was for the sake of no one being able to hear him sing this far back from the hall, but it stunned him to watch Ignis undress from his suit like it was the most casual thing in the world. He hated the way his mouth watered at the sight, but he blushed deep when Ignis looked at him, already forgetting the Adviser could _see_ him now.

“Won’t you join me, Prompto?” Ignis asked innocently from where he stood, letting his silk jacket slip to the floor.

“W-we already cleaned up today,” Prompto protested weakly from the door, watching as Ignis laughed in response.

“Mm, we did,” he agreed, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked over, “but I need you relaxed for your training. I promise this is the best way.”

Prompto doubted that very much, but it was hard to argue with. He was certain Ignis knew what he was doing, he had to be, but something wanted him to protest. Perhaps it was because of what they’d learned this morning, in such a short amount of time. An imposter, the king himself gone, but Ignis wanted to take a bath and probably get up to more than just training?

A gloveless finger lifted his chin and Prompto was forced to meet those piercing green eyes, but he couldn’t help a smile as he nodded and began to undress. Ignis unbuttoned another button and Prompto reached with eager hands to slip them under the fabric and touch as he closed the distance between them with a kiss.

The taste of Ebony on his lips and tongue, Ignis returned it with a need that he had to suppress. He pulled back with a furrowed brow and nuzzled Prompto apologetically. “Later darling,” he lamented. “Your training is far more important, I’m afraid.”

Prompto pouted, truly pouted for the first time and Ignis laughed again, reaching to touch one freckled cheek. “Oh, I beg of you, please don’t.” He pressed a kiss to those pouting lips and laughed softly again. “I’m not certain I can resist.”

“That’s the point,” Prompto said with a small smile, turning to start the water and intentionally bending over to do just that.

Ignis suppressed a sigh at the sight, dropping his shirt to the floor as he turned towards a cabinet to get his mind off the teasing blond behind him. He found his soaps without much difficulty and smelled a few before he found the one he wanted and tossed it to Prompto.

Still pouting when his attempts at seduction failed, Prompto added the soap and finished undressing, stepping into the tub. A moment later, Ignis joined him from behind and tugged the blond back against him, surprising the younger man. He’d never consider Ignis indirect before, but with his sight restored, he seemed a lot more certain about what he wanted.

Prompto liked it.

“All flirting aside, darling,” Ignis said as they got comfortable. “I need you to focus. Take some deep breaths with me, and relax. I want your nerves to disappear. I want everything we heard today, everything that’s happened, allow it to simply go away for now. Tuck it away for later, if you would. Just listen to the sound of my voice, only me.”

As he spoke, Ignis wrapped his arms around the younger man, placing one hand on Prompto’s chest to guide his breathing. This was unconventional, to say the least, but he didn’t have time to give Prompto proper lessons. If anything, he’d learned his voice calmed the other man, and if sex were a reward for a job well done, no one was losing here.

Under Ignis’s guiding, Prompto’s breath slowed as he took the Adviser serious and listened. Together, they took deep breaths while Prompto slacked against the older man and relaxed, comfortable with the warmth of the water, the smell of the soaps, and the security of Ignis behind him.

“Do you feel it, darling?”

The question confused Prompto at first and nearly brought him out of his relaxed state of mind, thinking perhaps Ignis was making an innuendo before something subtly caught his attention. He _did_ feel it – the soft undercurrent of energy coursing around them and it took only a few seconds more until he recognized what that energy was.

Magic.

His breath quickened in surprise, but Ignis’s hand pressed on his chest as the Adviser took a strong deep breath. “Shh,” he soothed. “ _This_ is why I wanted a bath, Prompto. Water encourages the current, allows one to access it better. Back before we were persecuted, youths were taught in lakes, oceans, or rivers, until they could better access their magic. Understand?”

Prompto nodded, closing his eyes as he tried to concentrate harder on what he felt. The more seconds that passed, the stronger the current felt, as if being aware of it now made it aware of him. It brushed against him and something about its touch reassured him.

“How do I… How do I use it?”

“Start with a simple hum,” Ignis instructed. “But don’t be discouraged if it takes a few tries.”

“What’ll happen, though?” Prompto asked. “What’ll my powers do?”

“Let’s find out.”

Prompto wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt at those words but took in a deep breath and tried to be receptive to them, as well as the current as he hummed a note. His eyes slid shut as a thrum of power coursed through him and although he gasped at the same time as Ignis, it was for an entirely different reason.

“Prompto, look!”

Eyes snapping open, Prompto gasped again when he saw the bathroom was now filled with a shimmering current of colors and it took him a second to realize he had made the magical current visible to the naked eye. It took another minute before he realized that he had _done_ that, with a single hum, and the magnitude of it startled him more than he expected it to. He sat up in the tub, his mind a jumbled mess of shock and awe, reaching with shaking fingers to touch a swirl passing by and feeling a tingle when they passed through each other.

“You wanted to see it, didn’t you?” Ignis inquired softly from behind, looking from the visible current of colors to Prompto when the younger man turned to face him. “Amazing. One hum and you made your wish a reality. Just think of what you could do with a song.”

“We already know what I can do with a shout,” Prompto reminded, the two of them sharing a blush that Ignis was grateful he could see. “How do I make it go away?”

“As simple as another hum,” Ignis explained. “It is yours to control.”

Prompto hummed again and gasped at the sensation again, watching as the colors faded from sight, but the sensation remained. “Am I always going to feel it now?” he asked, touching his chest as he looked around.

“You will grow used to it, I assure you,” Ignis assured, bringing Prompto back against him and resting his chin on the younger man’s shoulder. “You must practice as much as our schedule allows you, darling. In here. The news we learned today is only the tip of the iceberg, I’m certain.”

Prompto turned his head to look at Ignis, meeting his gaze. Despite his worry, he smiled when those eyes looked at him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to Ignis having his sight back. “Practice how?” he asked. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What if this was just a fluke? What if I do something that alerts the guy pretending to be the king? Or I accidentally blow a hole in the wall of the Citadel?”

Ignis laughed softly and shook his head. “I took precautions,” he said. “How many songs have I played for you over the years?” He met those uncertain eyes and smiled. “They are, for lack of a better word, spells. I was teaching them to you all this time. You know the tunes, hum them for now, but eventually, add words and see what happens. The magic is yours, darling. Your possibilities are limitless.”

* * *

They finished up not long after that with the assurance from Ignis that a bath would not be needed anytime Prompto wanted to practice. It was only for Prompto relax enough to see the magic for the first time, and that had gone splendidly.

Prompto was not so certain he wouldn’t need a bath every time, but Ignis caught the teasing in those words and laughed as they dressed in order to get to a meeting he had. They stole a kiss by the door before heading out into the hall, and it took everything in Prompto’s power not to take the other man’s hand in his own.

He supposed it wouldn’t have been _that_ out of place for him to do so, but the more normal they acted, the better. He just hoped his poker face was as good as Ignis’s as they turned the corner to the lift.

To his surprise, the doors opened to let someone out and his heart stopped when he saw who stood on the other side. His reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Ignis, who fought to pretend he was still blind when he saw how white Prompto had become.

“…Ravus!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued support of this fic <3 It means the world to me since this is based on an original story of mine :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> confrontation with ravus yields answers.  
> prompto uses his powers.  
> but things take a turn.
> 
> (apologies for any typo/errors I failed to catch)

Everything that happened next, happened fast.

Both Ignis and Prompto were so focused on Ravus stepping off the lift, they neglected to notice that he was not the only person in the hall there with them. Ignis suddenly went down with a cry, startling Prompto out of his Ravus-induced terror, only to find blood staining the side of the Adviser’s jacket. Before he could react, Ravus had reached him and the unseen attackers behind Prompto were pressed close to bar him from backing away.

He didn’t know what to do, at first – wide eyes staring up at the cold, tall man in front of him. The man he’d _seen_ die by Nyx’s hands. Prompto’s mind didn’t want to focus, all he could hear were the sounds of Ignis’s pained breaths and his own heart pounding in his ears.

Why? Why was Ravus back? Better yet, _how_? Had he been wrong? He had to be, Ravus was right in front of him, which begged the question, how much had he seen back in that room? Had he felt Prompto’s voice reverberate when Caligo had thrown the dagger?

Did Ravus know Prompto had cheated death too? Did he know Prompto’s secret?

Realizing he’d been caught up in his thoughts and fear, Prompto knew he had to act before it was too late. But how? What did he do? Did he use his voice? Or was it a bad idea to reveal his aces too soon?

What he _did_ know was Ignis was hurt and if he didn’t do something, he would be next. So, he fought. This time, Prompto was smart about it, calculated jabs behind him to strike the men blocking his exit to give him room to take on Ravus. Without Caligo’s bulk, the men were easy enough to take down. His blows had hit their intended targets exactly how and where Prompto had been trained and two more strikes to their temples had them both crumpling to the ground as he skirted Ravus’s outstretched metal hand.

“If you care at all whether Ignis lives or dies, you will not take another step,” Ravus’s steely voice caught Prompto and stopped him in his tracks.

“That would isn’t fatal,” the former servant breathed, gaze darting down to the Adviser. Ignis had pulled himself to the wall and was resting against it, blood-stained hand pressed to the wound in his side.

“But the substance the blade was coated in, _is_ ,” Ravus corrected, lips curved ever so slightly in a satisfied smirk.

Prompto’s stomach could’ve punched a hole down every floor of the Citadel until it was in the basement at those words. Wide blue-violet eyes shot to Ignis as the man lowered his head as if to look at his wound, but even in pain and the threat of death, he kept up the pretense of still being blind.

He had to.

“What do you _want_?” Prompto finally managed to ask, mouth dry. He couldn’t think of any other reason Ravus would be back for him unless he knew the truth, and trying to figure out _how_ he knew wouldn’t serve him or Ignis any good right now. If they got through this, _then_ they could explore that avenue.

“You both know what I want,” Ravus quickly answered in a hiss, advancing towards Prompto a few steps, “and since Ignis refuses to tell me and has gone through great lengths to save a _servant_ … Why don’t we see what the servant knows now that he’s talking?”

Prompto tried desperately to keep a cool head as his gaze shot to Ignis. It wasn’t that he couldn’t bluff, but could he bluff with Ignis’s life on the line? He couldn’t see what options he had other than honesty, and he _knew_ that was the one thing he couldn’t do. He wasn’t stupid.

But what else could he do? He was back to the same thoughts as before – that he had to act before it was too late, but his only option was to fight. And if he couldn’t do it physically, he would have to use his voice.

“Fine,” he finally said aloud, swallowing thickly, nervously, “but what about Ignis?” He looked back at the Adviser. “We give you what you want to know and then what?”

“I have the antidote.”

Prompto’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Where?”

With a scoff and roll of his eyes, Ravus lifted a hand to his chest and patted a spot within the folds of his white and silver frock, leveling his gaze at Prompto. And that’s when Prompto knew that there was no antidote and that the intended goal was that neither he nor Ignis left this situation alive.

Nodding to show Ravus he understood, Prompto bowed his head as if he were trying to get up the nerve. “Okay,” he said, doing everything in his mental power to concentrate on what he wanted. He wanted Ravus dead and this problem to be _gone_.

Was a hum strong enough? Should he shout?

He had to trust his instincts, and his instincts were telling him he’d wasted enough time. He knew it would be messy, he knew he might have to strike more than once, but it didn’t stop Prompto from drawing in a breath, closing his eyes and lashing out with a sharp concentrated note.

Apparently, the prophesized Dreamweaver didn’t really need practice. In a sudden whoosh of power, the dagger used to stab Ignis lifted off the floor and flew directly for Ravus’s chest in the blink of an eye. He had no time to deflect it and it struck home.

A choked breath made its way past his lips, parted in shock as his gaze dropped to the dagger embedded in his chest before he looked back up at Prompto, lip curling in a sneer as blood stained his pure white frock. He staggered forward but collapsed to his knees before he could take another step and falling lifeless to the floor.

Prompto watched, stunned and frightened until he was certain Ravus was dead, then ran to the man and rolled him onto his bed and frantically began searching his body for the antidote. Although he didn’t expect to find it, expected Ravus had been lying, Prompto had to try and sure enough, he came up empty and looked up from his failed search to find Ignis watching him.

“We have no proof he was telling the truth about the poison,” Ignis wheezed softly and that alone told Prompto everything.

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Prompto hummed and thought about Nyx, calling to the man wherever he was. He got to his feet and went to Ignis’s side, reaching for his bloodied hand to survey the wound himself.

“No,” Ignis hissed with a firm shake of his head, pressing his hand hard against his side with a stifled grunt.

“Let me see,” Prompto insisted in reply, looking back up at the Adviser. “I have to know what I’m dealing with before I try healing it.”

Ignis opened his mouth to reply before his gaze shifted past Prompto to the unconscious men on the floor beyond. “Not here.”

Prompto followed Ignis’s gaze to the men and bit his lip but nodded. “If he wasn’t lying, then you don’t have much time,” he said, reaching for Ignis’s forgotten cane. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room. Can you stand?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much choice in the matter,” Ignis breathed out, gripping his cane with white knuckles as Prompto helped him to his feet. His knees gave and he sagged, but the blond caught him, frightened tears brimming in his eyes.

Just as he helped Ignis stand again, the lift sounded and the doors began to open, both men stiffening in alarm until Nyx was revealed on the other side. He met Prompto’s gaze, a surprised expression on his face, like he couldn’t believe something, but then his gaze dropped to the bodies on the floor and he jerked in surprise before he rushed to their aid, finger on his earpiece as he sounded the alarm.

“What happened?” he asked, reaching Ignis’s side and taking the weight from Prompto.

“He came back,” the former servant tried to explain, gesturing to Ravus. “Those two ambushed us from behind and stabbed Ignis before we knew what was happening. Ravus said it was coated in something fatal and would give us the antidote if we told him what he wanted to know. I…uh, I killed him, but he lied about the antidote. He doesn’t have anything on him.”

By the time he finished explaining, the tears finally spilled and Prompto looked back at Ignis in fear. “…I can heal him, but…” he trailed off, not wanting to say anything more in front of the men. Gods forbid they hear something, unconscious or not.

Nodding, Nyx turned in the direction of Ignis’s room. “Here,” he said as he shifted the weight of the Adviser back to Prompto. “You go back to his room. I’ll stay here and wait for backup.”

Prompto nodded, glancing at Ignis, who had grown quiet, which worried him. “Ignis?”

“…Here,” the Adviser breathed, head lolling towards Prompto with a weak smile. “I’m here, but we should hurry.”

And Prompto did. Carefully. It was hard not to worry about Ignis too much as they shuffled down the hall back to his room, especially with each pained breath that escaped his pale lips. It felt like an eternity before his door came within reach and Prompto threw it open to help Ignis inside, just as Gladio and Noctis appeared from around the corner and came running to help.

“What happened?” Noctis demanded as he all but kicked the door shut behind them.

Gladio took Ignis from Prompto and helped the Adviser onto his bed, stripping the blood-stained jacket as Prompto tried to stop the room from spinning. He reached for the nightstand to steady himself, just as Noctis grabbed his shoulders in concern.

“Prom?”

“Ravus…” Prompto breathed, swallowing past a dry mouth as he closed his eyes. “The…the guy who took me the first time. H-he came back, he should be _dead_. They stabbed Ignis, he said the blade was poisoned.” He turned to find Gladio had stripped Ignis of his jacket and shirt and was inspecting the wound. “I have to heal him.”

Gladio looked up, skepticism written on his face before Ignis touched his thigh to stop him from saying something stupid.

“Let him, Gladio,” the Adviser breathed, reaching to take off his dark glasses and tossing them to the nightstand. He was pale, sweating, and his gaze wavered, worrying Prompto. “If Ravus…was not bluffing, then…I may not have long.”

His words alarmed all of them, and Noctis tore himself from Prompto to go to Ignis, fretting. “W-what?”

“Ravus said the poison was fatal,” Prompto answered, drawing all eyes to him. “Said he had an antidote but lied about it. Either he was bluffing to get what he wanted or planned to kill both of us with the poisoned blade and leave us to die.”

Just as Prompto readied himself to use his voice, an urgent knock sounded at the door, alarming all of them as the young blond turned to answer it as Gladio stood to block Ignis from view. But when Prompto opened the door, they found Nyx on the other side, and once Prompto stepped back, he quickly entered the room.

“The Citadel is on lockdown until they can determine how he got in,” Nyx explained, looking to Ignis with a frown. “But I checked him, he’s dead. There’s no coming back from that, I promise you.”

“What’s the phrase?”

The question surprised all of them, but Noctis stood from the bed and stared hard at Nyx until the Glaive blinked and bowed slightly. “Walk tall, Your Highness.”

The tension immediately eased and Prompto turned back from the door to return to Ignis as Nyx grew quiet, aware of what was taking place and wanting to see it for himself. Prompto closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing on Ignis’s wound in his mind and thinking hard about healing it and any poison within. He had to be strong enough. He had to save Ignis.

He knew a simple hum wouldn’t do, but he started out with one, just to feel it out, see what it could do. Sensing eyes on him, Prompto opened his and found Ignis – as well as everyone else – watching him. His voice wavered, but Ignis lowered his head, leveled his gaze and Prompto forgot about the others and held those eyes with his own. The hum increased to a note as he parted his lips and sang, but he was unable to help the embarrassment that came with it.

He’d never really considered himself a singer and the fact that he was supposed to use his voice to save people didn’t really inspire confidence, but Ignis shook his head and Prompto was forced to push those thoughts away. Ignis could be dying, Prompto didn’t the luxury of being embarrassed until the Adviser was healed.

With a surge of urgency, Prompto put everything into that note and sent the magic he could feel pulsing around him, forward. Ignis gasped and sat a little straighter, Gladio’s hand on his back to support him as they all watched Prompto in awe. The magic was invisible at first, but that rainbow-colored aura he’d seen in the washroom earlier that day suddenly became visible as it rushed from his mouth to the wound in Ignis’s side.

Eyes went from the rainbow stream to Ignis, all of them watching as the bleeding stab wound visibly began to close, until all that remained was the dried blood on Ignis’s skin. As soon as Prompto could see he’d succeeded, he closed his mouth and sagged to his knees, but Nyx and Noctis caught him before he fell. He looked up immediately and met Ignis’s relieved and tear-filled eyes.

“…You really did it…”

Ignis stood from the bed as Prompto freed himself from Nyx and Noctis’s supportive hold, and the two met in a relieved, loving embrace. A silence followed until Prompto pulled back and brought Ignis into a kiss, only to be broken by Noctis.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but what now?” he asked, looking at Nyx and then Ignis. “What if we can’t figure out how Ravus got in?”

“I think I know,” Nyx answered with a shake of his head. “I think we all do.”

“The imposter,” Prompto spoke up, a nod from Ignis affirming everyone’s suspicions.

“Anything about my dad?” the prince questioned as Gladio got up from the bed to go to him.

Nyx shook his head. “We haven’t been able to locate him, I’m sorry,” he replied. “Clarus had tracked down every lead, but he’s vanished without a trace. All we know is that he’s alive. Like Ignis said, if he were dead, we would know.”

“But wait,” Prompto asked. “If the imposter sent Ravus, doesn’t that imply he knows about me? And…and since I killed him, I…” He paled at the realization. “I may have just painted a target on my back.”

The silence that followed his comment did little to reassure Prompto he wasn’t mistaken. He looked to Ignis, who was already watching him in concern.

“We’ll increase security on this floor,” Nyx assured. “I’ll do what I can to funnel information away from the imposter regarding that, and anything regarding both of you, for as long as I can. I’ll stay in touch with Gladio and have him be the liaison between us. I don’t want suspicions arising from me lingering around here.”

Ignis nodded and guided Prompto onto the bed to rest. “That may be all we can do for now,” he agreed with a soft nod. “Thank you, Nyx. Please be safe. Things may only get worse from here.”

Nyx nodded, bowed again, and left without another word.

Pursing his lips, Noctis went to Ignis’s closet and began raiding it before producing blankets that he carried to the couch across the room. He turned when he felt eyes on him and crossed his arms. “If you think I’m leaving you alone after what happened today, you’re kidding yourselves.”

Prompto smiled from the bed and looked up at Ignis. “We could build a fort,” he whispered excitedly, and Ignis couldn’t help a soft laugh.

Despite the severity and danger of what had happened, he couldn’t help indulging the prince. If they were together, they were safer and if a fort made them feel better, then who was he to stop them?

* * *

The door opened to a cold, dark room and with a flick of his wrist, the lights came to life and illuminated the body on the table. Regis eyed with a cold, calculated stare until the door shut behind him and his lips curled into a smug satisfied look.

One second he stood as Regis, King of Lucis, the next, he was another person – Ardyn Izunia, the Accursed. His long baggy trenchcoat and fedora hid much, but he lifted his head and amber eyes resumed their study of the dead body of Ravus. He rubbed his stubble-covered chin, long lace cuffs poking out from his sleeves brushed his skin and he chuckled to himself as he walked forward.

Stopping before the table, Ardyn shook his head in disapproval before he reached out with one hand and gripped Ravus’s throat, squeezing. His body shuddered and his skin turned blotched, stained as if with ink as his eyes filled with black. He watched as Ravus’s body responded in turn, turning dark and blotched just like his own before the man sucked in a huge breath and arched off the table.

Immediately, Arydn let go and his appearance turned to normal as Ravus flew upright on the table, hands searching his body for the dagger no longer embedded in his chest. He turned and looked at Ardyn before he slumped in realization and a hand went to his forehead as he panted, still catching his breath.

“Well?” Ardyn sneered. “What did we learn?”

“You were right,” Ravus breathed as the blotches faded and his features became pure again, a smile appearing on his lips. “He is the Quicksilver after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry for the delay. The holidays are over so things should be getting back to normal, but I've got a lot of health issues going on (I have an MRI tomorrow to see what this mass in my bladder is, please send me well wishes and good thoughts <3 or pray if that's your thing). Please check my pinned Tweet on Twitter for ways you can help. 
> 
> And as always, thank you for your patience and for reading <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the imposter comes out to play.  
> takes something from prompto.  
> and all hell starts to break loose.
> 
> angsty chapter is angsty - a bit of action dump :(

As Prompto opened his eyes the next morning, confusion settled over him when he found himself nestled between Noctis and Ignis. On top of that, they weren’t even in bed, but… Oh! Right! The blanket fort. Content to lay there for a few minutes, Prompto’s thoughts drifted back to the events of the day before, and his happy moments of contentment started to fade.

Even though Ravus was dead, Prompto knew things weren’t going to get any better. They couldn’t just idly sit by and hope that Clarus, and whoever else may be looking, found the king. But Prompto didn’t know what they could do. They couldn’t kill the imposter without knowing his goals, without knowing if doing something to him would by proxy do something to the king. Despite the need for direct action, there were too many things keeping them from doing something.

Maybe…

A thought finally occurred to Prompto after a few moments of thinking, but before he could turn to Ignis and see if he were awake, a knock sounded at the door. Immediately, everyone woke and tensed at the sound, something they’d all come to feel like was becoming a bad omen.

Prompto was quick to squirrel out of the fort while Gladio reached and pulled as much of it as he could down. Noctis whined from under the blankets falling on him about how this wasn’t fair, but even he knew appearances mattered right now, and a blanket fort probably wasn’t the most subtle thing they could’ve had going on.

The knocks became more urgent by the time Prompto reached the door and Gladio and Noctis had moved to the table. Ignis moved more slowly, touching his side as he stood – a glance to Prompto told the former servant the wound, though healed, was still tender.

Prompto bit his lip before answering the door, relieved to find Nyx on the other side, but the Kingsglaive looked far from happy to see him. He looked worried, gaze flicking past Prompto to the others before he cleared his throat.

“Walk tall,” he said before looking back at Prompto. “The king has requested your presence. I’m to escort you.”

The tension silently exploded, so thick that Prompto felt like he was swallowing it as he glanced back at Ignis in confusion. “Me?” he asked, turning back to Nyx. “N-not Ignis?”

Nyx nodded in confirmation, holding up a hand when he noticed Ignis rising back to his feet. “…He wanted Prompto to come alone,” he hesitated to explain. “…He wouldn’t say why.”

At that moment, everyone knew Prompto was being forced to walk into a trap, but what could they do without revealing their hand?

Turning back to the others, Prompto put on a brave face and waved their worries off. “Come on, guys,” he reassured, unable to keep the tremble out of his voice. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be back in a bit.” He laughed nervously and stepped out of the room, nodding to Nyx, who looked back into the room beyond.

“I’ll bring him back,” he promised before Prompto shut the door behind them.

The walk to the throne room was awkward and silent. Prompto knew that Nyx had no answers for what he was about to walk into, and going face to face alone with the man who’d vanished the king was daunting. They didn’t know what he wanted, how much he knew, what his plans were for _anything_ , and Prompto was about to face him.

Alone. No Ignis.

But Prompto took in a deep breath as they stepped off the lift and down the hall to the throne room. He had his voice, he was a Dreamweaver – he had power, and he had the tools to save himself. Maybe he had the power to bind the imposter and find out what he’d done with King Regis.

Upon arrival to the closed throne room doors, Nyx knocked and then opened one door before he motioned for Prompto to go in. The former servant looked up in shock when he realized he wouldn’t even have _Nyx’s_ company facing the imposter, and the bodyguard’s expression showed he regretted his orders for him to stay outside.

As soon as Prompto found the bravery to carry himself into the throne room, the door was suddenly thrown shut behind him and in between Nyx’s concerned pounding from the other side and the fact that Prompto knew someone was behind him – the trap had been sprung.

Whirling around, Prompto found himself face to face with Ravus once again. 

_How?_

The confident sneer of success splayed across his face, the ivory-haired man’s mechanical arm snatched Prompto by the neck and squeezed before the blond could utter a single note. Immediately, Prompto was on the offensive, grabbing feebly at the hand choking him before his legs began to kick for a target as he was lifted from the ground.

“Not this time,” Ravus hissed, squeezing dangerously hard to the point where Prompto thought he was going to be killed right then and there before he was thrown across the room. Sliding along the smooth floor to the steps of the dais, Prompto wheezed and coughed before booted feet sounded behind him and he looked up, expecting to see the king’s imposter, but no.

It was the imposter himself.

Prompto wished the identity of the strange disheveled man provided some _clue_ , but other than a vague sense of familiarity, he had no idea who the man was. The man laughed, mockingly, lip curled as he reached down and repeated the process of grabbing Prompto by his throat.

Expecting an easy target with which to free himself from, Prompto immediately moved to slap that hand away and _move_ , but the man’s arm and hand seemed to have the same strength as Ravus’s mechanical one. Prompto didn’t know what their fascination was with choking him, but he fought back as best he could, grabbing the arm, kicking with his feet, reaching for the man himself.

To no avail.

Yet, even though a hand was around his throat and squeezing, the strange man seemed less interested in killing Prompto as he was in studying him. “ _This_ is the Quicksilver?” he asked, shaking his head in disapproval as he glanced back at Ravus. “Are you certain?”

There was no answer from Ravus, but whatever his face said seemed enough for the strange man. Slowly, Prompto saw his face began to transform, and although he wanted to blame it on the lack of oxygen, Prompto _knew_ the dark blotches on the imposter’s face were real. The ink-like stains trickled down his neck and under his clothes, and eventually, to the hand holding Prompto by the neck.

As soon as the black touched Prompto’s skin, the young man screamed in terrible agony with air he had no idea was left in him. It felt like fire, a rope of flames around his neck, burning him to an end Prompto couldn’t fathom. Is this how he would die? Screaming as he was choked and burned in some ethereal way?

But a few seconds into his tortured screaming, he suddenly found he could scream no more, and a strange sensation came over him. He felt…empty. He didn’t know how else to describe it. As soon as his voice cut out and the sensation settled over him, Prompto was promptly released and dropped to the floor.

“This cat has lost interest in your cat and mouse game,” the strange man said as he leaned over Prompto, watching as the blond grabbed at his throat and sucked in precious air. “Consider this…checkmate.”

Glaring daggers up at the imposter, Prompto opened his mouth to snap back at him and to his horror, found that he had no voice. He grabbed at his throat again and scrambled back from the strange man, panic-stricken in terror. Tears flooded his violet eyes as he tried in vain to talk, scream, shout, sing, but nothing came.

“Release the little mouse, if you would.”

“But Ardyn, he can still—”

“—I know what I’m doing,” the imposter, this Ardyn, snapped back. “You’ll get your revenge soon enough.”

* * *

Ignis, despite the tenderness of the wound in his side, didn’t stop pacing the room the instant Prompto had left them. He knew this was wrong, he knew this time that they’d played a hand they couldn’t back out from and something was being set in motion that they hadn’t thought to plan for.

Or maybe they had, and Prompto’s hand had been forced in the hall yesterday. Had there been any other option for them with Ravus threatening a poisoned knife without the guarantee of an antidote?

Cursing under his breath, Ignis wheeled on his foot and paced back across the room while Noctis sat on the piano bench. His knee jiggled restlessly as he rested his chin against his hands and waited with impatience for Prompto’s return.

Only Gladio hid his unease by the window, staring out into the morning of the city beyond the Citadel. He waited with impatience for something to come over the earpiece from Nyx, but only silence through. Just as his patience started to wear thin, the door to Ignis’s room suddenly flew open, startling all of them as Nyx staggered in with a silent, sobbing Prompto.

Ignis crossed the distance in a flash, going to the young blond’s side in confusion and concern before those eyes met his and his stomach plummeted through the floor. “Oh gods…” he breathed, staggering back from Prompto.

“What?” Noctis demanded as he got to his feet, Gladio passing him to shut the door and guard it with his bulk.

“They took his voice,” Ignis breathed, voice shaking as Prompto dropped to his knees, wailing in silence as tears stained his face. No one missed the dark blotchy bruise around his neck, in fact, Nyx couldn’t stand to look at it anymore and turned away, furious.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “He made me stay outside. Once the doors shut, I couldn’t get in. I tried. I heard him screaming, I…”

A hand from Gladio stopped Nyx, and he looked at the other bodyguard in frustration, but Gladio just shook his head. Only Noctis stood standing and staring at the bruise, as Ignis sunk to his knees before Prompto and held him, tears streaming down his face in heartbreak.

“…Iggy,” Noctis whispered, swallowing. “The…the mark, the scar on your face. Where did you say it came from?”

Ignis looked up, caught off-guard by the question before he shook his head at the prince dismissively. “Not now, Noct,” he chided, tightening his hold on Prompto as he tried to calm the poor kid down with soft strokes on his back and soft whispers in his ear.

“I’m serious,” Noctis replied, a sharp edge in his voice. “The purple… It looks like Prompto’s neck.”

A hush fell over the room and even Prompto stilled from his voiceless crying to let Ignis inspect the bruise around his neck. In fact, now that they all looked at it, it seemed less like a bruise and more like a burn, with the same jagged edges as the scar over Ignis’s eye.

“Holy shit,” the prince breathed in realization. “It’s the same guy who took your sight, Iggy!”

“Calm down, Noct,” Gladio snapped. “That isn’t cause for celebration.”

“No, no,” Ignis said, carefully rising to his feet, helping Prompto up as well. “No, this gives us something.” He walked to the bed, holding the young blond close as they sat down together. “This gives us… A lot.”

“Why?” Nyx asked, taking a cautious step forward. “What good can it do now?”

Although he knew the question hadn’t been meant to sound so callous, Ignis couldn’t help giving Nyx a stern look. “Because I know who the imposter is,” he said. “I know what needs to be done to stop him.”

“And that is…?” Nyx prompted before suddenly the door burst open, throwing Gladio forward.

The big man stumbled toward Noctis, grabbing him protectively as the king, accompanied by Ravus and masked soldiers filed in behind them. Instinctively, Ignis’s grip on Prompto tightened just as defensively as Gladio to Noctis, but Nyx was the one to step in the way and defy the imposter king.

“My Lord,” he said, hoping he was convincing in appearing that he still believed the king was the real king. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I am placing Lord Ignis and his servant under arrest,” Regis explained, no longer seeming to care if he acted like the real thing or not. “They have been found to be conspiring against me, and placing my son at risk with their lies.”

“Father—” Noctis began to sneer in protest, but Gladio stopped him with one squeeze to his arm. He looked up in concern, but the fierce look in those amber eyes told him all he needed to know.

“With what evidence?” Nyx exclaimed. “My Lord, you can’t be serious! Sir Ignis has served you and your family for _years_.”

“Nyx, your job is to protect _me_ , not defend my would-be conspirators,” Regis hissed, striking his cane against the floor. “A job, I might add, you have been failing at by spending so much time with them. I have half a mind to lock you up alongside them.” He turned his head and nodded to the soldiers behind him. “Escort them to the dungeons. If they try anything, you know what to do.”

Prompto clung tighter to Ignis in terror, and it was all Ignis could do not to look at him, to feign blindness without his glasses to hide the anger - and shock at Ravus's appearance - in his eyes. It was Nyx who handed him his cane and glasses, expressing the shock for him before stepping out of the way as Prompto managed to fall back into his role of servant leading his master. The masked soldiers filed out behind them, leaving just Ravus and the king behind.

“Noctis, you will go to your room and remain there until further notice,” Regis then announced, looking quite pleased with himself. “This…guard can stay with you if he pleases, but my own will be outside your door. For your protection, of course.”

The prince opened his mouth to protest, but again a squeeze of warning from Gladio quieted him and he let himself be led from the room without any further complaint. Nyx watched them go before he looked at the imposter king, unsure of what fate lay ahead for him.

“You are hereby dismissed from your duties,” Regis said, a smirk appearing on Ravus’s pale face. “You are to leave the premises, under pain of death.”

Nyx clenched his jaw and tried to keep from making a fist, but he knew this a battle he could not win. He had to find Cor _now_ – the other bodyguard’s lack of presence could not be a good thing, and without the other man’s aid, Nyx wasn’t sure what help he could be to any of his friends in the Citadel. He didn’t say or bow or salute his ‘king’, he brushed past him and down the hall, trying to come up with a plan.

Everyone’s lives depended on it.

* * *

The sound of the dungeon door slamming shut behind them was nearly enough to set Prompto off again, but he was so tired from crying and every time he tried to speak, whether intentional or not, his throat _burned_ with the effort. He couldn’t cry without making noise, so the pain was torturous. He sagged against Ignis as they sat down on the floor together, and he tried not to let the depression of failure consume him.

He’d failed them all.

“Shh…” Ignis breathed as if reading Prompto’s thoughts. “Do not fret, dearest Prompto. We will get through this.”

Prompto yanked himself away, red eyes staring at Ignis incredulously through his tears, silently demanding _how_.

“I will heal you,” Ignis explained, but before Prompto could mouth his protests, Ignis put a finger to the younger man’s lips. “Our imposter king is the Scourge,” he continued. “The doom of the Dreamweavers. The one who nearly killed you as an infant and blinded me as a child, but you are destined to stop him Prompto. You are the quicksilver. He can pull all these tricks, but he cannot stop you.”

Prompto’s expression told Ignis he didn’t understand. He shook his head in protest, touched his throat, shook his head more. Ignis couldn’t heal him, he would die! He would die before Prompto could save him.

And Ignis knew this. He took off his sunglasses and dropped them to the floor, tears adorning his emeralds. “My life in comparison to yours, is nothing,” he said, taking Prompto’s face in his hands. “Many more will suffer if you do not live, if you do not stop the Scourge. He will find a way to the Crystal, to take the power for his own. If he succeeds, the Dreamweavers will not be the only people he wipes off Eos. Prompto, you _must_ understand the importance of your stopping him. If I do not do this for you, for our people, for the world, then we are _all_ lost.”

Tears spilled from Prompto’s eyes as he shook his head in further protest, unable to agree to the death of the man he loved for the sake of him saving the world. What world would it be without Ignis? One that he didn’t want, that’s for sure.

But before he could think about how much he _didn’t_ want this. Ignis had started singing, a soft hum that the dungeon echoed beautifully, and a soft invisible touch pressed against Prompto’s throat and soothed the burn torturing him. He looked up at Ignis and shook his head again, mouthing “no” over and over before he spotted something dark out of the corner of his eye.

Glancing down, red was staining Ignis’s jacket in the same spot as the knife wound from yesterday. Prompto stared in horrified confusion before he realized the magic was literally draining the life from Ignis, undoing all the healing Prompto has bestowed upon him.

The burn vanished completely from Prompto’s throat and he croaked out a protest just as Ignis lifted a trembling hand to his eyes, which no longer focused on the blond before him.

He could no longer see.

Prompto bit back a shriek of despair, lest the guards hear him and know his voice had returned as Ignis slumped motionless against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you once again for your patience on this one. i hope you few lovely readers are still waiting on this one, please comment and let me know because they're so important on my lesser loved stories such as this one.
> 
> hope you don't hate me for this chapter lolololol
> 
> as always, please follow me on twitter and/or tumblr for friendsies, and check out my pinned tweet for ways to help me with some medical issues <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nyx gets his revenge.  
> noctis gets some answers.  
> it's time to save prompto.

Nyx didn’t bother trying to keep silent as he stormed down the halls back to his room. He really had no need to go back there, but for the sake of appearances, and to buy himself time, he headed there. Truth be told, he had no idea where to find Cor – his counterpart hadn’t been around all day, and while Nyx had hoped it was because the imposter had sent Cor on some stupid errand to keep him busy, he was beginning to fear the worst.

Reaching his room, Nyx lifted his hand to his earpiece to ask the others if they knew Cor’s whereabouts, but hesitated. He didn’t know if he could trust the others, and he didn’t know if this imposter was listening. So, instead, Nyx tapped, sending a signal that would sound like static to the others, but if Cor were listening, the other man would know.

After a few seconds, Nyx stopped and waited, pacing his room in the meantime as he waited for a response. Several agonizing minutes passed before static responded.

_h-e-r-e_

Nyx stiffened, hand shooting to his ear. _W-h-e-r-e_

_f-u-r-n-a-c-e. w. c-l-a-r-u-s._

Cor? With Clarus? Hands balling into fists, Nyx headed to his door and listened for any sound of movement outside. Certain he was alone, he darted out of his room and down the hall, away from the main lift to the service one at the other end of the floor. He crouched low, stayed quiet, doing his best to remain unheard and unseen lest he be wrong about watching eyes.

When he reached the service lift, Nyx slapped the button for the basement level and shifted with impatience as he was slowly carried down. This way was safer, sure, but slower, and Nyx worried he could be wasting time. He suspected that whatever reason found Cor in the furnace chambers with Clarus couldn’t be good.

The elevator finally reached its destination and Nyx threw the door up and open before hurrying off, eyes darting every which way for some sign of Cor. He passed through the hall with no sign of the other men, heading into the main chamber where the furnace blazed. He’d felt the heat when he’d opened the lift door, but now that he was in the room with the blazing fire that kept the Citadel heated, Nyx was already sweating through his uniform.

It took too long for Nyx to notice there were no other workers about, but his eyes fell upon Cor and Clarus further down the main gangplank over the chasm encompassing the furnace, and his training seemed to vanish from his thoughts. Cor was holding the motionless body of the King’s Shield, a dark stain covering Clarus’s side, but Nyx could see he still breathed.

“What happened?” he demanded over the roar of the fire, kneeling beside his companion.

Cor gritted his teeth. “He located the King!” he shouted back. “Told me he was closing in, lost contact with him. So I went looking for him and found him like this.”

“We’re in trouble!” Nyx advised as he inspected the wound. “The imposter has made his move, probably because Clarus was closing in, I guess. He imprisoned Ignis and Prompto, took Prompto’s voice, and banished the prince to his room. We’ve got to act now!”

Cor was silent for a moment, processing Nyx’s words before he moved to lift Clarus and stand with the other bodyguard’s help. “He must be going for the Crystal!” He wiped at his sweating brow with the back of his sleeve. “I’ll get Clarus to safety, try to find out what he knew about the King. You need to get Ignis and Prompto out. They have to stop this imposter—”

When Cor’s words were cut off, Nyx frowned in confusion, but saw the other man’s gaze had settled on something over his shoulder Turning to look, the Kingsglaive stiffened at the sight of Ravus approaching them from the lift, white robes swirling about from the blaze of the furnace below.

Nyx felt every part of him clench at the sight of the ivory-haired man – memories of Prompto’s death, the knowledge that something kept bringing this man back – and he knew that this was his time to serve his king and country.

“Go,” he said to Cor. “I’ll handle this.”

Cor nodded and took a separate path off the furnace, but Ravus didn’t even dignify him with a glance, cold eyes fixed on Nyx as they approached each other on the walkway. Nyx summoned his kukris without another moment’s hesitation, wishing he knew more about the other man and his fighting habits, but now was his time to shine. He couldn’t let Prompto, his friends, and most importantly, the king, down.

A sword appeared in Ravus’s human hand before he dashed forward, lifting it high and swinging with a fierce, fast vengeance. Nyx darted back out of the way, assessing the situation before throwing his kukris and warping after them. One missed its mark and glanced off Ravus’s metal arm, but the other hit his flesh shoulder, causing a stagger backward. Following his daggers with a punch, Nyx hooked an arm around Ravus’s throat and swung around, pressing up behind the other man.

“How many times will I have to do this?” Nyx hissed in Ravus’s ear, squeezing with the arm he had around that throat.

“He will bring me back,” Ravus gritted. “I am _immortal_.”

Stunned by the words, Nyx was caught off-guard by Ravus’s head slamming back into his own. He stumbled back, narrowly missing the sword swung at his stomach. Inches from being eviscerated, Nyx leaped back and summoned his kukris again, assessing the situation and failing to come up with a situation that would allow him peace of mind by killing Ravus.

He needed more information.

“So, what? He just kicks you back out of the afterlife?” He threw a dagger to make it seem like he was stalling for time, which in a way he was, but probably not for the reasons Ravus would think.

Sure enough, the ivory-haired man knocked the dagger away with his sword and approached Nyx slowly, like a hunter with his caught prey. “No,” he purred over the roar of the fire. “ _He_ , the _Scourge_ , brings me back. Just a touch and I’m alive again.”

Nyx’s eyes narrowed in confusion – the Scourge? The man upstairs had the power to resurrect people? But… The light bulb went off in Nyx’s head almost a moment too late – he nearly avoided the sword again when he realized how to stop Ravus, but he stumbled over his own feet and against the railing of the walkway. His eyes burned with the heat from the fire below, but he let his stumble serve the purpose he needed.

Ravus came for him, using Nyx’s stumble as an opening and not realizing it for the farce it was. Nyx dodged the sword, and in the same motion, grabbed Ravus’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over the railing. But when he let go, Ravus didn’t and Nyx felt himself being pulled over the railing too. He shouted in protest and looked down to see Ravus’s glaring up at him, eyes wide with fear and recognition of being outsmarted, but as long as he took Nyx with him, he seemed to be more at ease.

Nyx could feel his grip slipping but he desperately kicked at the man beneath him, motions frantic as the railing slowly was pulled from his grasp. When he lost his hold, they both cried out, but Ravus lost his hold on _him_ , and just when he thought the fire would consume them both, a hand found his and stopped his plummet into the flames.

Looking up, Nyx found Cor’s hand gripping him, and it took everything in him not to sob with relief as he was pulled back up over the railing and onto the solid floor of the walkway. He embraced the other man in gratitude, unable to help himself, but Cor didn’t push him away.

“Where’s Clarus?” Nyx asked, pulling back and clasping Cor’s shoulder.

“He came to in the lift,” Cor shouted back. “He’s waiting for us. Let’s go.”

* * *

Noctis paced, much like an angry cat, in his room while Gladio stood by the door, arms crossed in frustration. Both of them wanted to help, wanted to do _something_ , but what could they do? What actions could they take that wouldn’t endanger Regis, Prompto, Ignis, and all their friends? And if this imposter really was Prompto’s destiny to stop, was it over for them all, now that Prompto had had his voice taken away?

Another few moments of pacing and Noctis threw up his hands in exasperation, looking to Gladio. “We’ve got to do something!”

“I know some things we could do,” Gladio replied, offering a smirk before the look on Noctis’s face had it fading. “Sorry, just…tryin’ to lighten the mood.”

Noctis sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know.”

“Princess, we might just be stuck here for a while.”

Ignoring the nickname, Noctis stalked over to Gladio. “That’s not _good enough_ ,” he hissed. “They’re our _friends_. It’s my _dad_. We can’t just sit here!”

“Then, what do you suggest we do?”

Noctis summoned the weapons of the Armiger into view as he stepped away from Gladio, snatching his sword in a soft explosion of glittering blue. “We fight.”

“Huh,” Gladio mused, following the prince’s example by summoning his broadsword, staring at it for a moment as if deciding whether or not this was the right thing to do. “Guess we should’ve done this sooner, huh?”

“No,” Noctis replied, shaking his head. “We can’t fight this imposter, but we can take care of his stupid guards. I know those aren’t my father’s men. We handle them, then go get Prompto and Iggy.”

Gladio knew the prince was right, but he was worried. What if their actions had consequences? What if something happened to Ignis or Prompto or both, because they tried to fight their way out? What if this imposter was watching, waiting for this moment to punish them both?

“He’s got to be worried about more important things than me,” Noctis said, waiting for Gladio to look at him. “He just wanted me out of the way, I think we have the advantage here. He’s underestimating us.”

Considering Noctis’s words a moment longer, Gladio nodded his agreement and turned around to face the door. He took a breath to ready himself before throwing it open to startle the guards outside. Sure enough, they jumped and whirled around in surprise, but Noctis and Gladio were already making their moves. They took out three of the eight soldiers before they had a real fight on their hands, but when Gladio switched out for his Greatsword and swung it in a wide arc before him, the fight was basically over.

Noctis skewered the last soldier with his blade as the lift doors opened, Gladio immediately in between the prince and whoever stood on the other side. For a moment, they both thought that fight had been too easy, and that this was their real challenge. To their relief, however, a smoky, sweat-stained Nyx appeared, with an equally as sweaty and smoke-stained Cor, and Clarus, behind him.

“Dad?” Gladio asked in concern, seeing the way his father sagged against the king’s bodyguard, but Nyx ushered them back into the prince’s room as Noctis scrambled in the Armiger for a potion. He took everything he could find and dumped it on his bed next to where Cor had helped Clarus sit down, immediately shattering them one at a time on his father’s Shield until he was told to stop.

“I found your father,” Clarus breathed, holding up a hand when he was offered one last potion.

“What? Where?” Noctis demanded, straightening up from the bed.

“This imposter, this _Ardyn_ , sent him into the World of Ruin,” the Shield explained through gritted teeth. “I thought I could get to him, but they led me into a trap. I was almost done for if Cor hadn’t found me.” He sighed and shook his head. “I can’t get to him, even without the trap. Your friend, this Prompto, is it true he’s the prophesized Dreamweaver?”

Noctis looked at Cor in alarm, but the other man nodded. “Y-yeah,” he replied, nodding at Clarus uneasily, “but they took his voice. I…I don’t know if we can stop this guy anymore…”

“It can’t be over yet,” Nyx spoke up, all eyes going to him. “Ravus is finally done with. Unless he can be brought back from ashes, I’ve taken care of him.”

“Then, we go get Prompto and Iggy,” Noctis decided, fist slapping his open palm as he looked to the others. “And then we figure this out.”

Gladio nodded, offering his hand to the prince. “Let’s go.”

“Not without us, you’re not,” Cor said, glancing at Clarus as he rose to his feet. “You’ll need all the help you can get, especially if this Ardyn’s got more men strung about the castle. How he got the in here…”

“We’ll worry about that later,” Nyx assured as Gladio turned to his father.

“Dad?”

“I need some time,” Clarus breathed, still looking winded. “Once you’ve saved your friend, I expect you’ll find the imposter at the Crystal. I’ll meet you there.”

Gladio hesitated, approaching his father like it was the last time, but Clarus shushed him and rose to his feet slowly. He clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder, bringing their heads close. “Go, my son,” he said. “Go and protect our king and country.”

Touching his father’s arm, Gladio nodded and turned, leaving with the others as they all rushed down the hall to the lift. Noctis’s room was on a private section of this floor, with a direct lift, so they would need to take this lift down to another, and use a separate lift to go to the dungeons. The dungeons were located in the basement as well, on the opposite side of the furnace, distant enough to keep them walled off from the heat of the flames.

“We should take the service lift down to the basement via the furnace,” Nyx suggested as they all climbed into the private lift. “That way, we take an indirect path to the dungeons and avoid as much detection as possible. If your dad was right and this Ardyn’s attention is on the Crystal, we might not have as much as a problem as we’re expecting.”

“We should still be on guard, though,” Cor reminded, though he didn’t need to. They all expected some sort of interference between where they were and their final destination.

“But then what?” Noctis asked, eyeing the numbers on the panel as they descended further down the Citadel. “They took Prompto’s voice.”

“Maybe Iggy can heal him,” Gladio suggested.

“Wouldn’t he have thought of that already?” Nyx said. “He seemed pretty upset when he realized what had happened.”

“None of this is helping,” the prince griped, rubbing his forehead as the lift came to a stop.

They all pressed to the side as Nyx remained in the center, doors opening to an empty hall. He held the doors open, studied the surroundings before he nodded and they filed off the elevator. He led them silently down the halls, around the corners, back to the same service lift he’d used before. Shockingly, they made it without detection.

“This is really becoming too easy,” Noctis commented, worried as Nyx slammed the lift door shut in front of them.

“I’m not too sure,” Cor replied as they descended into the bowels of the Citadel once more. “I think we may have stumbled on one of this imposter’s faults – he’s overconfident. He thinks Prompto is his only obstacle. He’s handled Prompto, so he thinks he’s won. His sights are on the Crystal now.”

Silence filled the lift after that comment, because none of them had a solution for what to do if they couldn’t fix Prompto. Would Ignis be their savior instead? Could he stop Arydn in lieu of Prompto? None of them were sure, but they all hoped Ignis would have the answer, at least. Ignis _had_ to know what they could do to fix this.

To save Insomnia. To save the other Dreamweavers out there. If any.

And on top of that, Noctis’s thoughts drifted back to Clarus’s news about his father. In the World of Ruin, what did that even _mean_? He knew so little about this Dreamweaver prophecy, that he was entirely unprepared for the dangers he and his family faced as a result, and he hated that he hadn’t paid more attention. If Prompto’s voice couldn’t be restored, would he never see his father again?

The pit in Noctis’s stomach only grew with each passing second.

They reached the furnace and felt the heat wash over them as they opened the lift doors. Nyx led them down the hall, closer to the distant orange glow before he took a turn that carried them away from the suffocating heat. Noctis was grateful for the cool dark halls that swallowed them up as they headed deeper into the basement, towards the dungeons.

But now, they heard guards – voices and footsteps of approaching patrols. Were these Ardyn’s men? Or the king’s? They couldn’t waste time stopping to find out with battles that could injure them and dwindle their already low numbers, so they hid in shadows and stuck to stealth.

But just as they reached the final hall to their destination beyond, a sudden anguished _wail_ reverberated throughout the stone walls. It was so loud and intense that they were forced to cover their ears, before Noctis realized he recognized the voice as Prompto’s. He gasped and looked up, just as an explosion threw them all back as the wall blew out before them in a shower of blinding light and rock.

One by one, they all sat up to face the source of the explosion, as a silhouette appeared from within the light, casting shadows over them. Noctis was the first to recognize Prompto once again, scrambling to his feet before he realized Prompto had something draped in his arms.

It was a body.

It was Ignis.

And the wail they’d heard suddenly made sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks once again to those of you still reading. this one is so near and dear to my heart since it's based off one of my books, so i appreciate y'all still being here.
> 
> I expect this to end around thirteen chapters or so. not sure how the next chapter will pan out, so i hope two more will do the trick :) that may or may not change.
> 
> also, some bills came up, so please check out my pinned tweet for ways you can help :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the final showdown.  
> prompto gets sent to the world of ruin.  
> the others have to fight ardyn.

As Noctis and the others got to their feet, Prompto continued past them, Ignis’s lifeless form draped across his arms. The prince rushed to his friend’s side, grabbing his arm and calling out his name until Prompto blinked out of his strange daze and turned to look. He seemed confused for a moment, but realized he carried something and a glance down had his lip quivering as the tears welled back up.

“What happened?” Gladio demanded, unable to keep the anger from his voice. Of course, he wasn’t angry at Prompto, just the situation, but an angry glare from Noctis had him placing his hand on Prompto’s shoulder, gently.

“Prom?” Noctis prompted softly.

“He said he had to,” Prompto whispered, staring ahead at nothing. “…He…” His voice failed up as Cor approached and gently took Ignis from him. He looked up at the Marshal, who nodded at him before stepping to the side to let Prompto past. “I have to _end_ this.”

“Not without us, you’re not,” Noctis said as he grabbed Prompto’s hand. “We’re in this together.”

Prompto looked up at the prince, then to Gladio, and Nyx before lastly, Cor. He realized they had come down to save him, braved dangers that he didn’t know of, and understood that he had friends willing to fight for him and die at his side. He failed to stop a couple of tears from falling as he squeezed Noctis’s hand and nodded. “Let’s go.”

They had only made it halfway down the hall before soldiers piled out in front of them. However, they weren’t masked like the ones that had accompanied Ardyn – these were Crownsguards, and some of the king’s loyal men.

“Halt!” one called, sword in hand. “You are in violation of the Crown’s direct orders and assisting a known traitor, Your Highness, and…” He faltered when he saw Nyx and Cor alongside the prince, a ripple of murmurs flooding the small contingency of soldiers.

Noctis stepped forward, briefly releasing Prompto’s hand. “If you think that limping-on-the-wrong-leg asshole is my father, you’ve got another thing coming when this is all over,” he snapped. “The traitor is the man upstairs – my father is missing, Clarus was nearly killed, Prompto’s been attacked several times by this asshole’s right-hand man, and now he’s got you thinking _we’re_ the bad guys.”

Silence followed the prince’s outburst and Gladio took a step forward while the opportunity was there. “Move.”

The soldiers parted like water and Noctis and the others passed through, rushing down the halls to the nearest lift.

“What’s the plan?” Nyx asked as they waited for the doors to open.

There was a delay before Prompto looked up, apparently lost in thought and not expecting the question. “I’m going to rip him to pieces until there’s nothing left,” he replied once his brain caught up, voice flat as he glanced towards Ignis.

“I like that plan,” Gladio growled, giving a thumbs up as Prompto managed a small smile.

“…Did I miss anything while I was in prison?”

“Ravus is dead,” Nyx advised with a proud smile that Prompto frowned at. “No, I mean really dead. _Dead_ dead. Found out Ardyn was reviving him, but I don’t think he’s coming back from being thrown into the furnace.”

Prompto’s frown slowly vanished as his other hand found Nyx’s to squeeze in gratitude.

“Clarus found my dad,” Noctis spoke up, waiting for Prompto to look at him. “But he couldn’t get to him. Said Ardyn sent him to…the World of Ruin?”

“Where’s that?” Prompto asked, receiving numerous head shakes in response. “…I’ll find him, Noct. I promise…”

As they reached the floor that would grant them access to the Crystal, the group braced themselves, expecting resistance, but the doors parted and revealed an empty hallway. Each of them frowned in confusion, tentatively walking forward as one by one they drew their weapons in preparation – except for Prompto, who clenched his fist and readied himself to sing.

When they reached the door concealing the Crystal, it was Noctis who had to let them in, and when the door slid open, they found Ardyn no longer under disguise as the king, but himself. His hands were lifted as if praising the Crystal in all its glory, but the darkness that spewed forth from his fingers and pressed against the Crystal, threatening to taint its purity was unmistakable.

“Hey, asshole!” Noctis shouted, unable to help himself. “Where’s my dad?!”

Ardyn spun around in a flurry of potato-sack trenchcoat, a sneer on his stubbled lip as he leveled his gaze at the group. He ignored the prince when he spotted Prompto, and the Quicksilver knew it was now or never. He opened his mouth and summoned the magic, using every fiber of his despair, his angry, his heartbreak, and _threw_ it at Ardyn – envisioning what he wanted done.

But in all his rage and emotion, he neglected to concentrate it, rushed the magic as Ardyn shot black magic from his hand and managed to deflect the blow to his shoulder. He staggered back as his face turned pale and blotched, stained like a tattoo from his eyes, his lips, his veins. His eyes glowed an eerie red as he curled his fingers and summoned more of the magic, and in a flash, disappeared from their sight.

A quiet warning Prompto couldn’t explain told him what was coming and he sang out a note that stopped Ardyn as the man appeared in front of him, reaching for his throat. Unable to snatch his prize, Ardyn seized one of Prompto’s wrists, and with his other hand, sharply threw it down. A rip in reality – it was the only thing Prompto could think to describe it as – appeared at his side and before Prompto could stop him, or before anyone could grab him, Ardyn threw Prompto through the hole and his world went dark.

* * *

Prompto woke up with a gasp to darkness still, pure darkness. He couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face, but he could _hear_. Shrieks and howls and growls echoed across the landscape, flashes of demonic light in the distance, sounds of flesh being torn as shadows fought other shadows. His breath quickened in terror as he closed his eyes and shook his head before it suddenly occurred to him where he was – the World of Ruin.

At first, he felt the anguish of failure overtake him. He’d acted too quickly, let his emotions consume him instead of focusing on what the magic could do. He realized now so many other ways he could’ve handled that situation – was it too late?

No, it couldn’t be.

Opening his eyes, Prompto unsteadily got to his feet and summoned the magic with a soft hum, waiting to feel its warmth before spotted glints of rainbow in the air around him as it twisted and shimmered. “ _Where am I?_ ” he sang in words that weren’t real, in a voice that sounded like Ignis, a confidence a knowledge brewing inside of him. “Let me see…”

The magic thrummed around him before exploding outwards. Slowly, a faint yellow light with no source appeared behind black clouds, dimly lighting the barren, hilly landscape around him. The yellow haze made everything look even sicker and more decayed than it already was, creatures scattering for shelter from a light source they feared.

Prompto turned to take in the sights, calming down now that the magic was his to control. But now he knew what he had to do – find Regis and get the fuck back home.

“ _Can I get home?_ ” he sang in foreign words once more.

The magic flashed and a few feet away, a rainbow silhouette of the rip Ardyn had created appeared. Relief settled in Prompto as he nodded and turned to look at his surroundings once more. “Now,” he said aloud before singing, “ _where is the king_?”

When the magic concentrated into a rainbow path before him, Prompto immediately took off after, running as if his life depended on it. He didn’t fear getting lost, didn’t fear dying – he was going to be okay, he had the magic and no one was going to take it from him. He couldn’t let Ignis, or anybody else down, and he didn’t plan on it.

As he ran, the dark form of a building took shape in the distance, and a glance down at the rainbow path told him that was his destination. “ _Fly_ ,” he sang, a gust of wind swooping him up from the ground and carrying him into the air.

A part of him loved this, loved this sudden command of the magic, loved the ease with which he used it and the natural instincts, but a part of him ached. He felt…Ignis in this magic, felt that this wasn’t truly him – that when Ignis had died, he’d given Prompto more than just his voice back, Ignis had given a part of himself. But without that, could Prompto do what he was doing now?

He didn’t know.

A tear fell from his cheek as he reached the building and was set down before it. He called out for Regis before summoning the magic with a hum into his hand for light as he approached the dark doorway. “Your Majesty?” he called. “It’s Prompto. Ignis’s servant? I…uh, I know this sounds kind of weird, but I’m here to save you? We know about the imposter, and uh, guess what? I’m a Dreamweaver that’s supposed to stop him! Your Majesty?”

His voice echoed down the empty halls and nothing followed. Prompto waited several minutes before he frowned, wondering if he was in the wrong place or worse, if Regis were dead. But he shook that thought away – the Crystal would have fallen if Regis were dead.

Slowly, Prompto continued down the halls, using the rainbow light in his hand to guide the way as he called for the king before he heard scuffling ahead and his heart leaped into his throat in fright. “Y-your Majesty?”

Several agonizingly long seconds passed before a tattered form appeared in the doorway ahead. Regis, dirtied and pale, raiment torn, winced at the light and lifted a hand to shield his face from it so he could see.

“P-prompto?” he questioned in surprise. “…I must be dreaming.”

“N-no!” the Dreamweaver exclaimed, carefully approaching. “I’m here to save you! I’m a Dreamweaver! I’m the one who’s supposed to stop Ardyn!”

Regis studied the former servant warily, hand twitching as if he were debating summoning his Armiger. “You know the demons have taken many forms since I was thrown in here,” he explained. “There must be something you can do to prove you’re not one of them.”

“Easy!” Prompto exclaimed with a smile, stretching out his hand with the rainbow light and sending it towards the king. He hummed and sang a happy note, asking the magic to heal and comfort his injured king.

Regis tried to stagger away from the magic, but it encompassed him in its glow, healing his cuts, restoring his raiment, even his knee felt better. When the magic left him, he gasped as a hand went to his chest. He looked up in alarm before Prompto ran to him, steadying his king.

“We don’t have much time,” Prompto said. “Ardyn threw me in here, I have to save Noctis and the others before he does something.”

Regis’s hands reached to grip Prompto as he leveled his gaze at the young blond. “Let us make haste,” he agreed, letting go so that Prompto could lead the way out of the building. His knee, whether temporarily or permanently healed, allowed him to run with the youth down the dark hallways towards the entrance, and for the first time since being thrown in this nightmarish hellscape, Regis was starting to believe he would see his home once again.

That is, until they passed through the doorway and into the direct line of sight of one the monstrous creatures that roamed the land. It had to be at least twenty feet tall, muscled, armored, armed with a huge sword, and eyes that glowed with a delightful menace upon spotting its prey.

“No,” Prompto muttered as he summoned all his emotions into his magic just as Regis summoned the weapons from the Armiger. “Not today.”

* * *

Once Prompto was out of the picture, things went a little haywire. Noctis shrieked in fury and summoned his weapons, throwing them at Ardyn in a frenzied attempt to harm the man. Eventually Gladio had to calm the prince before summoning the greatsword and leaping into attack with Nyx at his side.

Ardyn summoned a disturbingly similar Armiger to Noctis’s, although his was red, and snatched a sword to counter Gladio’s while thrusting his arm out towards Nyx to shoot him with the Scourge. Noctis let out a frustrated shout and moved to attack again, but was stopped by a hand. He looked back to see Cor shaking his head, Ignis still in one arm before he let go of Noctis to cradle the Adviser’s body.

“Not yet,” he said. “Let them buy time for Prompto. If one of them needs to back out, then you jump in, fresh and able-bodied.”

Noctis wasn’t sure he agreed, but conceded to the Marshal’s knowledge. Gladio kept Ardyn moving, throwing blow after blow that he was _certain_ made Ardyn’s arm vibrate, while Nyx dodged the Scourge attacks and threw his kukris over and over. Some hit their mark, but physical blows seemed to barely affect the imposter even as red stained his coat.

They danced all over the Crystal room, around the glowing construct and back around. Gladio could feel himself getting winded, despite his best efforts, and he feared that he couldn’t buy Prompto all the time in the world. Just as he feared the worst, it happened – a blast of Scourge hit Nyx in the shoulder the Glaive went down in a tumble and a scream.

Noctis shouted in protest and ran to his side, helping him back over to Cor before throwing himself into the fight. He took the pressure of Gladio with his more furious warps and attacks, knowing he’d drain himself fast, but maybe he’d get lucky.

Cor set Ignis down to tend to his companion’s injuries, but when he saw what was happening, he feared the worst. Black stained Nyx’s skin as he ripped the uniform apart to see. It spread fast, following his veins and searing his body, and Nyx couldn’t stop screaming – like he was being burned alive.

Cor didn’t know what to do. He looked up just as Noctis was thrown across the room and Gladio blocked a blow that forced him to his knees as he used both hands to hold up his sword, and hold Ardyn back.

Was this the end?

Suddenly, a massive _rip_ echoed through the room as a brilliant, rainbow colored line slashed through the fabric of reality. A voice pierced through and an explosion of color blew through the rip and into the Crystal room, knocking them all back.

Noctis sat up just as Prompto appeared through the hole in the rip, followed by another figure – King Regis! The explosion of color rippled from the young blond as he sang another note, washing over them all. Noctis felt restored, warm, _strong_ and rose to his feet as Nyx’s screams stopped and he sat up in surprise. The explosion threw Ardyn back and allowed Gladio to quickly get back to his feet, as Noctis ran to his father and Prompto advanced on the imposter.

Gladio and Nyx were quickly at his side as the doors to the Crystal room were thrown open to admit Clarus with the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard. Prompto continued advancing as Ardyn sneered again, vanishing from sight, but Prompto closed his eyes, summoned the magic and reached out a hand. This time, when Ardyn reappeared, Prompto’s hand closed around his throat and squeezed.

Instead of appearing alarmed, Ardyn grinned, devilish and ghoulish with his pale and stained skin, and he reached with his poisoned touch, to grab Prompto. Yet when his hands closed around the Dreamweaver’s arm, he screamed in pain and released his grip immediately, hands turning normal and flesh as if being healed of the Scourge that made him what he was.

Prompto released his hold on Ardyn and watched as he stumbled back, smiling and continuing his advance as he sang another note that had colors rippling through the room once more. This explosion threw Ardyn against the wall and held him there until Prompto reached his destination and stared up at him, lifting his arms and singing what he wanted to see. The colors flooded in a rush over Ardyn, covering him and consuming him before solidifying and wrapping around each appendage like chains.

Screaming in agony, Ardyn fought against his magical bondage before Prompto threw his hands down and the magic ripped the Scourge apart – literally. Dark energy exploded outwards, but Prompto cried out a note of alarm and raised his hands, shielding himself and the others from the fallout of Ardyn’s demise.

Prompto didn’t realize how heavy he was breathing until he fell to his knees, gasping for breath as a silence fell over the Crystal Room. “That…” he said aloud, voice echoing, “…was for _Ignis_.”

Nyx was at his side, then Gladio, and both helped him to his feet, turning around as Noctis ran over and tackled the blond in a hug. “Prompto!” he shouted. “You did it!”

Clarus was rushing over as the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard poured in behind him, but he rushed to his king and fell to his knees before him. Regis was torn between tugging Clarus back up to his feet and thanking Prompto, so he helped Clarus up and parted through the others to get to the young servant.

“Prompto,” he called, silencing the cheers and chaos from the crowd gathering around them. “I may not know all the details yet surrounding these circumstances, but I do know this – you have done the kingdom a great service. You saved my life, the life of my son and my people, at the risk of your own. You command a great magic, one greater than our own to stop that mad man. We…are all indebted to you, young Prompto.”

Prompto offered a smile, blushing as his gaze dropped to the floor. Of course it made him feel good, to save the day, to save the king, but if he couldn’t save Ignis, then what did it matter? He could have all the riches in the world and never have to work a day again in his life, but he’d be doing it without Ignis.

Cor watched with a smile from where he stood, carefully lifting Ignis’s lifeless form back into his arms to quietly bring downstairs. Just as he turned away, a huge chest-heaving gasp shook the body in his arms and startled him so bad, he nearly dropped Ignis.

A body…that was no longer dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO?! WHATCHA THINK?!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ignis is back.  
> prompto gets an offer he can't refuse  
> happy ending!

Prompto stood in a daze as the others crowded around him, drowning in a sea of applause and ‘thank you’s. Just as he noticed Nyx’s bare chest, uniform ripped, and thought to ask what had happened, a gut-wrenching _gasp_ reverberated throughout the Crystal chamber. It stopped everyone in their tracks as they turned to face the source of the noise, gazes falling to Cor who was currently setting Ignis back on his feet.

Feeling his heart vault up into his throat, Prompto’s hands found Nyx’s and Noctis’s wrists as if to steady himself before he fell. The world was spinning, this couldn’t be real – Ignis was _dead_. He couldn’t look away, though, and he watched as Ignis stood on his own, panting, eyes blinking as his world came back into focus.

He could _see_.

Ignis slowly straightened and took a breath, the air filling his lungs and making him feel new. He checked his stained jacket, but there wasn’t even a scar where the knife had stabbed him, or any evidence that the wound had even reopened. His fingers touched soft, smooth skin.

When he finally looked up and saw Cor, his brow furrowed before he turned and looked around. He realized they were in front of the Crystal, that they weren’t alone, and that a teary-eyed Prompto stood staring amidst a crowd of people.

Prompto pushed through the Crownsguard and Kingsglaives crowding him, desperate to get to Ignis before the dream ended and reality hit again. Noctis and Gladio were close on his tail, followed by an excited Nyx as Prompto broke through the crowd and launched himself at Ignis - dream or not.

But he touched solid flesh and warm arms enclosed around him, and a sob of disbelief and utter relief wrenched out of him. “How?” he managed to ask through his tears as a hand stroked his hair.

“Darling,” Ignis murmured against him. “It was you. Didn’t you feel it?”

Prompto pulled back, confused as he blinked up at his resurrected boyfriend. “I…what?”

“Prompto, you came back like a badass,” Nyx spoke up from behind, hating to interrupt the moment but eager to provide insight. “Magic was exploding out of you. That last bit that got the imposter? It saved me too.”

“Did… Is that why your uniform ripped?”

Nyx grinned and playfully smacked Cor in the stomach. “Nah, Cor just couldn’t get enough of me mid-fight.”

Cor grunted, but a hint of a smile graced his face as he looked at Prompto. “Ardyn hit him with the Scourge,” he explained. “You cured it.”

Prompto’s gaze dropped to the floor as he tried to take in what he was being told – it all felt like a distant dream, like someone else had controlled the magic, yet he _knew_ he’d done all of it. He looked back up at Ignis, smiling again in disbelief when he realized what he’d done but it couldn’t be real. Something bad had to be hidden in all this right?

What was the catch?

“Stop,” Ignis murmured when he realized what was going through Prompto’s head, a hand moving to cup one freckled cheek. “You did what you were destined to do, and then more. We won.” His thumb brushed skin before he leaned in and kissed the young blond, softly and then deeply.

Prompto lost himself in the kiss, overwhelmed with thoughts of how he’d never expected to have this opportunity again. He didn’t expect more arms to enclose around them, but when he pulled away, Gladio and Noctis were now there, unable to hold back anymore. Ignis turned and touched his head to Noctis’s, looked at Gladio and touched his cheek, and Prompto knew that things were finally going to be alright.

* * *

Unfortunately, things didn’t automatically go back to normal. Prompto learned about a thing called ‘debriefing’, and spent the next few hours in Cor’s office with Drautos telling them everything he knew. Noctis, Gladio, Ignis, Nyx, Clarus, and even King Regis were all set to be interviewed and debriefed; and once they had all finished, they convened in the conference room to talk as a group.

Prompto was exhausted, but he didn’t want to complain. Truth be told, he’d thought saving the world would end up a little more glamorous than this. Not that he did it for those reasons, of course not, but he’d read the stories, seen a movie or two. Shouldn’t he get a medal or something?

What he really wanted, was to be alone with Ignis – to make up for the hours apart, to let Ignis know he’d _never_ take him for granted again, to hold him and never let him go. He found himself dozing through the meeting, leaning against the Adviser, hands held, fingers entwined, and when the others noticed, they didn’t wake him.

Ignis took the liberty of carrying Prompto up to their room once things finally began to wrap up. In all honesty, he was tired too – dying and coming back was not exactly revitalizing – but Prompto had exerted more power than he had known what to do with. It would take time to recharge. Gladio and Noctis accompanied them, tempted to linger for the same reasons Prompto wanted to be alone with Ignis. They too didn’t want to let go, afraid of losing Ignis again, but Ignis assured them the danger was over and they had nothing left to fear.

Once the door shut behind him, Ignis carried Prompto to the bed and slowly began to undress him, careful to set the clothes on a chair nearby before he stripped as well. His clothes were ruined, so he tossed them near the bin, unable to care any more than that for now as he returned to the bed and climbed in next to Prompto. A bath could wait til later, he decided, right now he wanted to hold Prompto against him and watch him sleep, exhausted or not.

Stirring when Ignis crawled in bed beside him, Prompto’s eyes fluttered open, sleepy but relieved to see the fair-haired man in bed beside him. He pressed a kiss to the other’s neck and nuzzled him, curling into his arms and falling back asleep.

They slept through the night and woke in the morning to sunlight streaming through the window. Prompto’s eyes blinked open and up at Ignis, who was watching him as a hand gently threaded through his hair over and over. His cheeks grew warm at those piercing eyes studying him, but he was too happy to care about anything other than Ignis being _there_.

“So…that’s it?” he asked softly, earning a slight frown. “…No consequences? It…it’s too easy. I can’t be that powerful.”

Ignis glanced away as he thought a moment, sighing softly. “Not that easy,” he replied. “There is one consequence, if you choose to see it that way.”

Prompto felt a pit grow in his stomach, thinking perhaps Ignis had a half-life now, or was still dying. He sat up a bit, clutching the sheets. “What is it? I can fix it, right?”

“Not this, I’m afraid,” Ignis replied, unclenching one of Prompto’s hands to hold it in his own. “I am no longer a Dreamweaver.”

Stiffening in alarm, Prompto’s mind raced with the implications of what that meant. He shook his head, realizing this was more harmful to Ignis than anyone and something had to be done. “N-no,” he protested. “…T-that was who you were, you can’t lose that! I have to give it back!”

“Prompto,” Ignis said softly, firmly to calm the younger man down. “…When I sang to give you your voice back, I did more than just give up my life, I gave you _all_ of me. Magic included. I believe that, even if it wasn’t written in the prophecy, what transpired between us was still a part of it. My magic…is now a part of you.”

Prompto still looked horrified by the idea and shook his head. “You haven’t said why I can’t give it back!”

“It is a _part_ of you,” Ignis repeated softly, squeezing Prompto’s hand. “If you give it back, not only will you lose your voice, but I expect whatever ailment was killing me would return. I am happy to be alive and without magic, if it means I am happy and alive with you.”

Hearing those words, Prompto’s gaze dropped to their hands, trying to make sense of what was being said to him, before he realized what mattered was that Ignis was back. And if Ignis didn’t resent him, and that if Ignis was happy, then that was all that mattered. He nodded and looked up at the other man before leaning in to kiss him.

They migrated to the bath to clean up and get dressed but were delayed by doing other things. Prompto wanted to show his appreciation, but couldn’t exactly go underwater to pleasure Ignis with his mouth. So they made waves in the bath instead as Prompto sang notes of pleasure to show Ignis what their sex could make him do.

When they settled down in the afterglow, Prompto covered Ignis in kisses, licking the sweat off his skin before washing it away with soap. They both knew they needed to get out, but with Prompto’s magic keeping the water warm, neither saw the need.

“There is one thing I haven’t been able to figure out,” Prompto murmured against Ignis’s neck, pulling back in thought as Ignis looked at him.

“What is that, darling?”

“…Why ‘Quicksilver’?” Prompto asked. “Nothing about me is quick, or silver.”

Ignis couldn’t help a soft laugh of surprise, covering his mouth. “My apologies,” he said before smiling. “Darling, that’s what your name translates to in our old language.”

* * *

The next few days turned out to be a flurry of activity. Construction began on repairing the demolished bits of the dungeon, new security measures were being implemented to hopefully prevent something like this would ever happen again, a ceremony was being planned to officially recognize the heroics of the whole Imposter debacle, and Prompto moved in to Ignis’s room officially.

Which led to the question of what was Ignis to do now that he was no longer a Dreamweaver. Technically, it didn’t impede his ability to advise – his magic had only helped him be better at it, but something told him that he was no longer meant to play that part. He decided to meet with Regis, accompanied by Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio, to determine what should be done.

“I feel my services would best be suited to just one person,” Ignis admitted, once they had settled down and begun the meeting. “Your son has a bodyguard, but no retainer. If you both accept, perhaps my time would best be spent Advising His Highness.”

“Mm,” Regis murmured thoughtfully, fingers steepled before his face, “and what of the vacancy your stepping down creates? Who will Advise myself, and the kingdom?”

Ignis smiled and bowed his head respectfully. “I would think dear Prompto needs a new job.”

Jerking in surprise, Prompto whipped to face Ignis before looking at the king in a near panic. “W-wait, what?”

“As the only Dreamweaver currently in service to the king,” Ignis explained, “it would seem you are best suited for the job.”

“B-b-but, I don’t know _anything_ about—” Prompto cut himself off at the sudden realization that what he was about to say was very much a lie. He’d spent nearly his whole life in the presence of royalty, at Ignis’s side in meeting after meeting after meeting. He knew this stuff probably as well as Ignis did, he just didn’t have that same level of surefire confidence.

“Not to worry, Prompto,” the former Adviser said as he took the younger man’s hand. “No one is expecting you to jump in and keep the ship going on your own. I will assist you, until you no longer need me. I can help you while still attending to the prince.”

Nodding in agreement, Regis turned to look at his son, head tilted. “Well, Noctis?” he asked. “Do you accept his offer?”

“Duh,” Noctis laughed like it was obvious before his father arched a brow and he straightened in his seat with a blush. “Uh, yes sir, I do.”

Gladio snickered under his breath as Regis clapped his hands against the table affirmatively. “Then, it is settled,” he decreed as he carefully rose to his feet. “We will need to get dear Prompto fitted with some official garments for Court, but until then, I will see you at the ceremony tomorrow.”

The others rose with the king respectfully, bowing as he left before Prompto promptly plopped back down in his seat, stunned. So many things had changed over the past few weeks, and now he was to be inducted into the Crown’s official employ? Not a royal himself, but the next best thing?

“You could’ve warned me you know,” he said wearily, giving Ignis a look as the other man laughed and gently helped him up to his feet.

“My apologies, darling,” Ignis murmured into a kiss before glancing at Noctis and Gladio as they came around the table. “I was hoping you may have considered the idea yourself.”

“Psh,” Prompto breathed as they left the conference room together. “It’s still ingrained in me to get you everything. A part of me expects to go back to it still. I can’t believe I got used to sleeping so much so easily.”

“Well, if you insist on being my servant still...”

“Oh, ha ha,” Prompto deadpanned, but they were all smiling and laughing as they made their down the hall, united as a group again at last.

* * *

The day of the ceremony arrived.

Prompto was a nervous wreck, looking at himself in the mirror and not recognizing what he saw. He was dressed in official Adviser garments – a little more updated than the robes Ignis had enjoyed wearing. He was reminded of the Crownsguard uniforms with his black boots, pants, and tunic with a jacket, but less adorned and more…Adviser-y. Like a prince without the raiment. Truthfully, he planned to make some alterations once he had some downtime and make it more like him.

He hoped no one minded.

A knock sounded at the door and Ignis stepped in, wearing an outfit a little different than Prompto was used to. With his sight back, Ignis had adjusted his wardrobe to fit more in tune with the times and current trends – apparently, the man was a fashion nerd and not having his sight had dulled the clothes horse in him. Now, he stood in front of Prompto with his own official outfit, a suit of dark silk fabrics, a jacket, a tie, expensive boots and white gloves. He looked like a walking sex machine and Prompto was briefly distracted by the sight and forgot his nerves.

“Oh, darling, you look splendid,” Ignis said as he walked in, helping adjust Prompto’s jacket a bit. “Mm, the tailoring is a bit off.”

“I plan to make my own adjustments,” Prompto admitted, nervously glancing up. “…Is it time?”

“Mhm,” Ignis confirmed softly with a nod. “Ready?”

“Are there a lot of people?”

“The full Court and Council, but no public,” Ignis answered. “Although the threat is gone, King Regis prefers not to open things up quite yet and risk anything.”

“I agree,” Prompto said with a dry laugh. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

They joined hands and left the room, heading down the hall in silence before taking the lift down to the throne room. Prompto was too nervous to say much and Ignis didn’t want to force him to talk, just squeezed his hand as they reached their floor and stepped off the elevator. The sound of their boots echoed in the hall before the sound of voices overlapping reached them. They turned the corner and spot Gladio, Noctis, Nyx, Cor, and Clarus waiting for them, all of them dressed to the nines for the ceremony.

Spotting them, Noctis quickly rushed over to greet them, jittery and clearly needing someone better than Gladio to calm him down, which Ignis was quick to do. But before they could start talking, the voices in the throne room beyond hushed, a fanfare played, and the doors were opened to admit them. They were guided into a line with Clarus leading the way and Prompto at the back, and one by one, they walked inside, forming another line before the ascending spiral dais. The Court crowded both sides of the throne room, and all the seats atop the dais were occupied, save Clarus who stood before his king along with Prompto and the others.

Regis rose to his feet and lifted his hands, quieting the murmuring court. “Today, we are gathered here to recognize the actions of a few, who knew of a threat to our kingdom when we did not,” he said. “Who fulfilled a prophecy at the risk to themselves, and saved my life and the lives of many by doing so. If not for them, I could very well not have been standing before you today. Clarus Amicitia, if you would step forward.”

One at a time, Regis spoke their names, listed off their heroic actions, while Drautos approached with a medal that he put around their necks. When at last he reached Prompto, the blond tried not to shake with nerves as he stepped forward and looked past the towering form of Drautos, to the king and his Council.

“Prompto, you have been blessed with a very rare gift,” the king spoke, eyes glittering. “I speak not of your magic, but of your heart. Your loyalty is unquestionable, your character is true, and your strength is indomitable. It takes one person to fight evil for the sake of good, it takes another to be thrown into the depths of hell and to fight back while saying ‘ _not today_ ’.” He smiled as a blush spread across Prompto’s cheeks and he motioned for Drautos to step forward. “I am proud to have you take Ignis’s place as Royal Adviser, and look forward to what you have to offer my kingdom.”

Prompto could feel eyes on him and he looked up to find Noctis staring curiously, the prince _clearly_ expecting to hear about what his dad had meant by those words. Still blushing, Prompto nodded to his friend as he stepped forward, accepted the medal and his new, happy life.

-fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so so so so so much for reading this one! It means so much since this one is based off something I wrote and not just a fic I pulled out my ass XD <333 Please let me know what you think and I hope you try out some of my other fics too! Don't forget to comment :)
> 
> Find me on Twitter or Tumblr! <3

**Author's Note:**

> So this is one of my original stories crafted into the Final Fantasy XV universe. Because of this, tags and other pairings will be added as I write the story - as the original fiction novel only had one major pairing. I also expect the ratings and warnings to change, so please be advised, darker themes could be added as well as some sexy times. I just don't know if my muse will take me there yet.
> 
> But please, please, please, tell me what you think and if you'd be curious to read more <3 
> 
> -
> 
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